A Fresh Start
by dawn341
Summary: 'Future' story. A sequel to For The Love Of A Woman. Richie moves back to Seacouver and struggles to start over again.


A Fresh Start by Dawn Cunningham

Disclaimers:

Duncan, Richie, Joe and Methos belong to Rysher. I'm just borrowing them and not getting paid for it. All other characters are my own.

Do not post or publish this story anywhere else, without my express permission. Feel free to share it with others as long as the disclaimers remain intact.

Author's notes:

This story is a sequel to For The Love Of A Womam. This 'universe' is set seven years in the future where Archangel did not happen. I would strongly suggest that you have read this before reading this one. You don't have to, but it might make this one easier to understand.

I wrote this story many years ago.

* HL * HL * HL * HL * HL * HL * HL * HL * HL * HL

A Fresh Start - by Dawn Cunningham

Duncan glanced over at his traveling companion. Richie had his seat tilted back, and his eyes were closed, but the older Immortal knew that he wasn't asleep because the younger man's hand was still lightly petting the Golden Retriever puppy lying on his lap.

It had been a hectic four weeks since Richie had burst into Methos' apartment to announce he was buying a business and moving back to Seacouver. Since then, there had been visits to lawyers, banks, and so forth, trying to get everything arranged and finalized. The last step had been to go pick up Richie's belongings. The young Immortal hadn't asked for help but Duncan had practically insisted on going along anyway. The Highlander had hoped to use the week-long trip as a means of getting to know Richie again.

Duncan sighed lightly. There were only a few hours left before they got back to Seacouver and he still had little-to-no idea of how Richie had spent the last seven years. They had talked during the many hours they had spent together on the road, but whenever the subject became uncomfortable for Richie, he would adroitly change the subject - a talent he had displayed from the first day he had moved into the antique store with Tessa and Duncan. The only topics the younger man appeared to be willing to talk about were sports, weather, cars, motorcycles, and his new puppy, Tessa.

Richie's apartment hadn't offered many clues either. In Duncan's mind, throwing everything out and starting over would have been a step up. Instead, they had rented a U-haul trailer to cart his belongings back across the country. That basically amounted to a full-size bed, dresser, a couch badly in need of re-upholstering, kitchen table with two chairs, and an ancient television set. The kitchen paraphernalia - dishes, pots, pans, food, and so forth - fit into three boxes. There were no pictures or even posters on the wall - no decorations of any kind. A few more boxes to hold the items found in the closet and they were done packing.

Not a lot to show for seven years. Duncan had to keep reminding himself that, according to Joe and Methos, Richie had been in major debt during most of those years. He still couldn't stop the twinge of guilt that he felt over his part in the whole mess. The Highlander had every intention of doing anything he could to erase the past seven years and recover the friendship and camaraderie that he had once shared with Richie.

Duncan missed Richie's brilliant smile, his quick wit, his acerbic tongue. Much as he hated to admit it - not that he ever would out loud - he even missed the young Immortal's motor-mouth.

"Almost there," Duncan said, finally breaking the silence in the car.

"Yeah," Richie agreed. "I think the best thing to do would be to take the U-haul over to the shop and leave it there. Tomorrow, I'll go over and give the place a good cleaning. If you have some free time, maybe you could come over later and help unload my stuff. If not, I'm sure I can find someone who is willing to earn a few bucks by doing it."

"Of course I'll help - and with the cleaning as well. There's no reason for you to have to do it on your own."

Richie sighed. "Sorry, Mac. It's just... Well, I mean..." He paused for a moment. "I've gotten used to doing things by myself. I guess I need to work on my 'ask for help' reflex again."

"It'll come back to you," Duncan predicted with a smile. "Next thing you know, you'll be over at my place raiding my refrigerator constantly."

Richie sat up straight and half-turned to the older Immortal. "Not this time, Mac. Things have to be different. I'm not the same person who left here - I've grown up. I've learned I can survive on my own. I'm not going to be running to you, expecting you to feed me or take care of me. And I don't want you coming over constantly to see how I'm doing."

"Are you saying you don't want me around?" Duncan asked, trying to understand how Richie wanted to treat their relationship. This time, he was going to let the young man decide how things stood and try to abide by it.

"No! That's not what I mean," Richie stated emphatically. "We can still see each other, maybe have dinner together once in a while. I want you as a *friend*, Mac, not as a father. I need to be able to live my own life."

"I understand, Richie, and I'll try to do as you ask," Duncan replied. "It won't be easy - I'll still worry about you. But if I do anything you don't like, let me know. We need to figure this out together."

"Sure, Mac," Richie said, leaning back and closing his eyes again.

Spotting a rest area up ahead, Duncan decided it would be a good time to stretch their legs before the final part of the journey. They had discovered it helped to stop more frequently to give Tessa a chance to use up some of her excess energy. After parking, he watched Richie and the puppy romp around the grassy area. The young Immortal's face was lit up by a smile - a rare occasion anymore.

* HL * HL

Richie knocked on the door of the small brick house located at the back of the lot he now owned. While waiting for an answer, he turned away from the door, surveying his new home.

To one side was a two stall garage, outfitted with equipment needed to work on cars and motorcycles. Less than 20 feet from that was a larger building that housed the parts store and a small apartment he would live in. The upper floor was currently used for storage, but he'd already decided he could make enough room for a workout area. He already had a set of free weights and he could buy some cheap mirrors so that he could practice katas and swordwork. When he had the money, he could add some more equipment. It was too bad Duncan wasn't running the dojo anymore. The Highlander could have ordered things at much cheaper prices than he would have to pay retail. Oh, well. It would be a long time before he had enough extra money to buy anything anyway.

He heard the door opening and spun back around. "Hi, Mrs. Garrett," he said in greeting, smiling at the woman who had opened the door. She was average height, and slim. Her dark hair was lightly peppered with gray, but it looked good on her, waving gently around her face.

She and her husband had owned the place until he died unexpectedly a short time ago. Mrs. Garrett didn't want to try running the shop by herself, so she had decided to sell it. It was the thought of losing the house she'd lived in for forty years that had made her more than willing to accept Richie's offer. He had promised she could stay there for as long as she lived - rent free - if she would sell the place to him on contract. Both sides had felt they had come out ahead.

"Richie! You're back. Come on in," Mrs. Garrett said, swinging the door open. "Did you have a nice trip?"

"Yes, we did. No problems at all," Richie said as he stepped into the foyer. "I just wanted to pick up the keys. We're going to leave the U-haul here tonight and I'll come over to clean the place up tomorrow before we unload it."

"Oh, that won't be necessary," Mrs. Garrett said. "Stacy and I gave the place a good going over this week. It's all set for you to move in. And one of your friends stopped by to stock the refrigerator."

"Stacy?" Richie asked. "Who's she?"

"Oh, that's right. You haven't met her yet." She turned and called over her shoulder. "Stacy, come meet Richie." She turned back to face the young man. "Stacy used to live just down the road - her father still does, but she's moved into her own place. She helped out in the store when she was going to college. I don't know what I would have done without her after my husband died."

A young woman came down the hallway and Richie studied her carefully. She was taller than Mrs. Garrett, but slightly shorter than he was and he guessed she was somewhere in her 20's. Blonde hair framed a face with high cheekbones. Blue eyes glared at him as if he was the worst form of scum and the Immortal was glad looks couldn't kill. Otherwise, he'd be laid out flat on the floor. He couldn't figure out why she seemed to hate him - he'd never met her before, that he could remember.

Mrs. Garrett performed introductions, telling him the girl's name was Stacy Campbell. Richie put out his hand in greeting, wondering if she would ignore it or not. Reluctantly, Stacy returned the handshake, and the Immortal would have sworn he could feel her hatred pouring through their joined hands. It was the shortest handshake in history and the young man was surprised she didn't wipe her hand off on her jeans to try to remove his touch.

"Nice to meet you," Richie said, a touch of sarcasm in his voice, before turning back to Mrs. Garrett. "Mac is waiting for me in the car, so I can't stay. Thanks for taking care of the cleaning, Mrs. Garrett. You really shouldn't have."

"Nonsense, Richie. It was no trouble at all. And please call me Millie. Mrs. Garrett makes me feel old. I won't keep you, but if you need anything, you just holler."

"Thanks again," he said as he backed out the door. Soon, he and Duncan had the U-haul backed up as close to the door of the apartment as they could get and had begun to unload. It didn't take too long.

Once they had finished, Richie saw they still had time to return the rental trailer. It would save him a day's rental if they got it back before the place closed. They just managed to get there five minutes before closing. The young Immortal then dropped Duncan off at the dojo.

"Tell Amanda hi for me," Richie said after refusing to come inside. "Oh, and could you call Methos and tell him I'll be staying at my new place tonight. There's no reason for me to stay at his place anymore."

"All right, Richie. We'll be expecting an invitation to a house-warming party real soon," Duncan warned him. "And if you need anything..."

Richie waved him off. "I know. I know. I'll holler. See you later, Mac." He put the truck into gear and headed home.

Home.

What a nice thought. For the first time in seven years he was home. For the first time in his life he had a home that was his. "What more could a guy ask for?" he said out loud.

A cold nose nuzzled at his arm. He glanced down to see Tessa gazing up at him from the seat beside him. "And a dog. I have a home and a dog. What more could a guy ask for?" he said again, grinning this time.

He felt a rush of pride when he unlocked the door to his place. This wasn't Duncan and Tessa's place. It wasn't an apartment. It belonged to him - or it would in thirty years, once he'd paid off the mortgage to Mrs. Garrett. That reminded him and he made a mental note to draw up a will in case anything happened to him. He would leave the place to Mrs. Garrett. That way she could sell it again and not have to worry about losing her home.

While Tessa checked out the strange smells around the apartment, Richie checked out the refrigerator. When he opened the door, he started to laugh. That brought Tessa to his side. "I guess Methos did the shopping," he told the dog. "The whole bottom shelf is beer. Well, at least I'll have something to serve at this house-warming thing Mac thinks I should have." He checked out the cupboards next. He couldn't remember the last time he had so much food around. There was even a bag of Puppy Chow under the kitchen sink.

There were so many choices to eat, it took a while to decide. He finally chose the simple route, taking a frozen dinner out of the freezer and popping it into the oven. While it was cooking, he poured out some food for Tessa and filled her water dish. She seemed a little unnerved by the strange place and kept following him around. When he finally did sit down, she jumped up in his lap and he hugged her closely.

"It's a fresh start, Tessa," Richie murmured as he stroked her lightly. "I can't screw this one up."

After eating his dinner, he worked on unpacking his meager belongings. Then he arranged the living area. It reminded him of Duncan's loft apartment over the dojo - although not as big. One room with everything in it. He'd have to try to keep it tidy. It wasn't like he could shove everything into the bedroom and close the door. And no matter what Duncan had promised, Richie knew the Highlander would keep dropping by to check on him. Oh, he'd always have a good reason to stop in, but the young Immortal knew the older one quite well.

Richie took Tessa out for a final time, before climbing into bed. He snuggled down with her warmth nestled in next to him, certain there would be no bad dreams to interrupt his rest.

* HL * HL

Richie kept busy over the next week, inventorying the store and going through the storage area. He was somewhat surprised he hadn't had any drop-in guests - except for Mrs. Garrett. She seemed to pop in every day, bringing him casseroles or desserts to eat. She seemed lonely so he always took the time to talk to her whenever she came.

Tessa took to Mrs. Garrett right away. It gave Richie some peace of mind, knowing the older woman would look after Tessa should anything ever happen to him. He could also leave the puppy outside if Mrs. Garrett was around, knowing she would keep on eye on Tessa.

As the first weekend approached, Richie decided to ask Mrs. Garrett's advice. "Mac said I should have a house-warming, but I don't know what exactly that entails. Do you have any suggestions?"

"It depends on how formal you want it to be and how many people would be coming. If it's not too many, you could have a sit-down dinner."

Richie looked around his small apartment. "I think I'll have to pass on the dinner. Let's see - there's Mac and Amanda and Joe and Adam. Plus you. I want you to meet my friends. So six counting me."

"Well, you could have a cook-out. The weather is still nice enough to cook and eat outside. Steaks are always good."

Richie felt himself flushing. "Um... I don't think I can afford steaks."

Mrs. Garrett didn't even falter. "Yes, it's outrageous the price they charge for steak nowadays. I do have a nice recipe for barbecue chicken. It's wonderful over a charcoal grill. I can loan you mine and even do the cooking."

"I couldn't ask you to do that," Richie protested.

"Nonsense, I'd love to. I have too much time on my hands. And I do love to cook. Let's see, chicken, maybe potato salad, some cole slaw and apple cobbler for dessert. How does that sound?"

"It sounds wonderful. Maybe I could buy a couple bottles of wine..."

"Oh, I wouldn't. First off, you'll probably get some as a house-warming gift. Besides, beer goes better with barbecue."

Richie laughed. "I can handle that," he said, thinking of the bottom shelf of his refrigerator. "Are you sure it wouldn't be too much work?"

"Of course not. We used to have barbecue parties and invite dozens of people to them. Back when Greg was..." She paused to dab at her eyes.

Tessa must have sensed her distress, because she come bounding over, begging to be picked up. Mrs. Garrett scooped her up and hugged her. After a moment, she returned to the topic of the party. "So when do you want to have it?"

Richie thought about it. "How about Sunday? Is that too soon?"

"Oh, no. This is only Thursday. I could easily be ready by then."

"Okay. I'll call everyone and invite them. And on Monday, I'll be opening the store back up. It can be a house-warming and back-in-business party all in one."

* HL * HL

By Sunday afternoon, Richie was so nervous he wasn't sure he would even be able to eat, but he didn't understand why. These were just his friends coming over. There wasn't any reason to be nervous. But he was.

He quickly checked everything out again. The grill had been going for a while and the smell of the chicken should have made him hungry. Mrs. Garrett had insisted on using her picnic bench which would easily seat them all. She had then gone on to put out one of her tablecloths and her own dishes as well.

There wasn't a cloud in the sky - unusual for this time of year - so at least he didn't have to worry about rain. He'd mowed the grass yesterday and trimmed the bushes - tasks he had never done before. Mowing was relatively simple, but he'd almost destroyed the first bush before Mrs. Garrett had come over and shown him how to trim it properly. He'd repaid her by helping to weed the flower and vegetable gardens that were her pride and joy.

So far the only blot on the day had been when Stacy had stopped by. She had glared at him as she walked up to Mrs. Garrett's house. She was still in there, talking to the woman. Richie had spent a lot of time trying to figure out if he could have possibly met her before or if she had been a friend of some girl he'd dumped back in school. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't remember her name.

She had driven by the place yesterday, while Mrs. Garrett had been demonstrating how to trim bushes. Stacy hadn't stopped then, just honked and waved as she went by. Richie had gotten an earful from Mrs. Garrett after that as she had praised the girl - how smart and talented she was and how she had a nice job as an accountant.

He just hoped she was long gone before his friends got here. Glancing at his watch, he realized they were due soon and he still wasn't ready. Hurrying back inside, he filled up an ice chest - also borrowed from Mrs. Garrett - with beer and ice and carried it outside, placing it in a shady spot. His last task was to change his clothes, donning one of the new outfits he'd gotten for his birthday.

He and Tessa went outside to wait for his guests. He heard the door to Mrs. Garrett's house open then close and looked over to see Stacy stalking toward him, anger filling her face. Before Richie had a chance to say anything, she erupted.

"Listen, Ryan, I don't know what kind of game you're trying to pull here, but I'm watching you. You make one mistake, miss one mortgage payment and I'll have the authorities here in no time at all. Furthermore," she poked her finger into his chest, "I want you to stop taking advantage of Millie. I can't believe your nerve!"

"Wait a minute!" Richie protested, angered by the accusations. "I don't know what your problem is, lady, but I'm not playing a game or taking advantage of Millie!"

"Oh, yeah? Then why was *she* trimming *your* bushes yesterday! I saw you just standing there watching her. And as for this party - she just lost her husband and you have the gall to ask her to cook for a party you want to have! I can't believe you!"

The sounds of car doors shutting interrupted her tirade. They both looked over and Richie saw Joe and Methos crossing the lawn toward them.

"We'll finish this conversation later," Stacy promised before heading for her own car.

"Problems?" Methos asked.

"Nothing I can't handle," Richie muttered.

"You haven't even lived here a week and you've already alienated the neighbors? Not good, Ryan."

"Oh, shut up," Richie said, glaring at the older Immortal. "Besides, she's not a neighbor."

"Now is that any way to talk to your guests?" Methos chided. "Joe, I think we should take our gifts and leave."

"Speak for yourself," Joe replied with a grin. "Whatever is cooking smells pretty good. Here, Richie." The Watcher handed a package over to the young Immortal.

Richie quickly unwrapped what was obviously a bottle of liquor which turned out to be Scotch. "Thanks, Joe."

"You're welcome, Richie. Congratulations on your new home."

"Same here, kid," Methos added, handing over his own package.

Richie took the package, nearly dropping it because he was unprepared for the weight. Inside it, he found a set of dishes and silverware. "Thanks, Methos," he stammered out, unable to believe his eyes.

"Figured they would come in handy," Methos replied, waving a hand nonchalantly. "Got any beer?"

"Help yourself," Richie said, pointing out the ice chest. He carried his gifts inside and placed them on the table. When he got back outside, he found Tessa investigating the newcomers. Joe had picked her up and she was sniffing intently at his beard while the Watcher chuckled.

Another car pulled up - this time it was Duncan's T-bird. Tessa must have recognized the driver too, because she jumped off of Joe's lap and ran across the lawn, barking happily. She barely gave the Scot time to get out of the car before she began jumping up and down. With a smile, Duncan scooped her up with one hand.

Amanda climbed out of the other side of the car and, for a moment, Richie felt his mouth drop open. He was used to seeing her in short, tight skirts, but today she had on a long flowing dress that came down to her calves. When she reached Duncan's side, she tried to pet Tessa.

Tessa growled and bared her teeth at the female Immortal, causing her to quickly pull back her hand.

"Tessa!" both Richie and Duncan exclaimed in shock. The puppy reached up and licked the Scot's face as if in apology.

"I'm sorry, Amanda," Richie said as he approached the pair. "I don't know what got into her. I've never seen her do that before."

"Hmmmm," Amanda replied, a speculative look on her face.

"It's probably because she doesn't remember you," Duncan suggested quickly. "And she knows me from the week we spent together on the road. Tessa was just trying to protect me."

"Of course." Amanda's face cleared and she turned to Richie, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. Tessa growled again from Duncan's arms. "We brought you some housewarming gifts," she said as she turned back to the car. "This is from me."

Richie accepted the green plant she had pulled from the back seat. "Thanks, Amanda. You'll have to help me find the perfect place for this," he said.

"Of course. Let's do it now." She threaded her arm through Richie's and pulled him toward the house. Duncan trailed along behind them, carrying his own gift, having passed Tessa off to Joe.

"Oh, this is just adorable," Amanda gushed as she was shown the small apartment. "If you'd like, I can help you decorate it."

Richie blanched at the thought. He could just imagine her ideas of decor. "Um, thanks, Amanda, but I'd kinda like to do it myself - it's the first place I've ever owned."

"Of course. Silly me." Amanda patted his cheek in understanding. "But if you need any advice, you just call."

"Here, Richie," Duncan said as he passed over the box he was carrying.

The young Immortal carried the heavy box over to the table before opening it. Inside he found a selection of wines - nothing too fancy, but not the cheap stuff either. "Thanks, Mac," Richie said. "Any suggestions on which would be good with barbecue chicken?"

Duncan selected one and pulled it out of the box. "This should work. I also have a bottle of champagne so we can toast your new home."

Richie panicked for a moment. He didn't own any wine goblets or champagne flutes. He'd look pretty stupid serving it to them in coffee mugs. Then he remembered Mrs. Garrett. Surely she'd have some. He didn't even have a corkscrew!

"That's a great idea, Mac, but I'll have to go borrow some glasses." He led the way back outside, glancing around the yard as he crossed it. Joe was sitting on one of the lawn chairs, still holding Tessa. Methos was standing by the grill, applying more barbecue sauce to the chicken with one hand and drinking from a bottle of beer with the other. "I'll be right back," he informed his guests.

He tapped lightly on Mrs. Garrett's door before letting himself in. "Millie? Do you have any wine goblets? And a corkscrew?"

"Yes, I do." She gave him directions on where to find them while she finished up a relish tray.

"You're a life saver," Richie replied. "C'mon, I want you to meet the rest of my friends." He shoved the corkscrew in his back pocket and managed to grab six of the goblets in his hands before shepherding her out the door.

Duncan saw them coming and gallantly came over to retrieve the relish tray she was carrying. Richie placed the goblets on the picnic table and started introducing everyone. Since the Scot had already met her, he busied himself opening the champagne and serving everyone.

"A toast," the Highlander proclaimed once the introductions were over, "to Richie's new home and new business. May he find all the happiness and wealth he deserves!"

"Hear, hear!" everyone else chimed in.

Richie took a sip of his champagne trying to squelch the thought that maybe he didn't deserve any happiness or wealth. Think positive, he reminded himself. This was a fresh start.

The rest of the party went fairly smoothly. Richie kept an eye on Mrs. Garrett, wondering if Stacy had been right and he had taken advantage of her. She seemed to be enjoying herself, however - spending quite a bit of time talking to Joe. The food was excellent and she became flushed as the compliments kept coming.

Amanda spent a fair amount of time trying to tempt Tessa to her side. The female Immortal seemed quite miffed when the puppy kept ignoring her. Especially when Duncan or Richie only had to look at the puppy to start her wriggling in delight.

"Typical female," Amanda finally exclaimed. "And why did you have to name her Tessa, anyway," she complained to Richie when Duncan was inside and out of hearing range. "I swear she's come back to haunt me."

"Really, Amanda," Methos replied. "She's just a dog, not a reincarnation of Tessa Noel."

"Oh yeah?" Amanda sneered back before grinning. "I don't think she agrees with you," she said pointing at the older Immortal's feet.

Richie's eyes followed her finger. "Tessa!" he exclaimed when he saw the puppy squatting over Methos' shoes, peeing on them. "Adam, I'm so sorry!" He quickly scooped her up once she was done. "Bad dog!"

Tessa appeared unrepentant, her mouth shaped in a doggy grin. Once in Richie's arms, she tried to lick his face.

"Stupid mutt," Methos growled, grabbing a nearby roll of paper towels to wipe off his shoes.

"I'll put her inside where she won't cause any more trouble," Richie promised as he headed for his apartment.

Once back outside, he started clearing off the picnic table, carrying everything into Mrs. Garrett's house, insisting on doing it himself - after all, it was *his* party. On his second trip, he saw Duncan come out of his apartment, Tessa in his arms.

"She must have followed me inside," the Scot explained.

Richie groaned. "No, she was being punished."

"Sorry, Richie. I'll put her back."

Richie carried another load of dishes inside, but when he returned he could clearly hear Tessa howling and whimpering mournfully from inside. He wanted to go to her, but he knew that wasn't any way to train her. He had to be firm, otherwise she'd grow up with bad habits. The young Immortal carried the last load inside.

When he came back out, he found Tessa prancing around the yard again. "Mac!" he complained.

"It wasn't me," the Highlander defended himself.

"I let her out," Amanda explained. "I couldn't stand listening to her cry like that. After all, it's a party."

Richie sighed and collapsed into a nearby chair. Why him?

* HL * HL

Richie hung up the closed sign on the door of the parts store with a feeling of relief. It had been a busy week - if business kept up like this, he'd make a very nice living. Realistically, he knew most of his customers had come in just to check out the new owner. Likewise, a certain amount of his sales were from people who'd been waiting for the store to re-open. The way he figured, in another week or two, the volume of people coming through the door would drastically decrease.

Fortunately, Mrs. Garrett had been more than willing to help out in the shop when it got too busy. It had been the only thing that had kept him sane sometimes - and the only way he'd managed to get anything to eat since he kept the shop open through the lunch hour. A lot of the customers knew her by name and had offered her their condolences. He felt guilty having her work in the shop and had decided to keep track of how many hours she put in. He couldn't pay her a full wage, but he could pay her something.

Tonight was the night he'd promised he'd take her to hear Joe play at his blues club. He decided a quick shower would revive him and he hurried in to do so. He had just enough time to get dressed, make a sandwich, and snarf it down before he had to pick up Mrs. Garrett.

Tessa tried to follow him outside, and Richie firmly pushed her back in. "Not tonight, Tessa. You can't come with me. I'll be home later."

Her mournful gaze made him feel guilty. He hadn't had a chance to spend much time with her this week. During the day, he had to work in the shop and in the evenings he had kept busy doing paperwork. Once she got older and he had trained her, she could stay in the shop with him, he decided, but it didn't stop the guilt now. Especially when he heard her whimpering as he walked away.

Mrs. Garrett greeted him with an agitated look on her face. "I don't think I should go, Richie," she blurted out.

"Why not?"

"It's not right. My husband has only been gone for six weeks and I'm going to a bar! I shouldn't be doing things like that. I'm supposed to be in mourning! It's not proper." She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.

Richie wondered if Stacy had anything to do with this sudden change of heart. "Millie, did you love your husband?"

"Of course I did," Millie replied, emphatically.

"And he loved you?"

"Yes."

"Do you think he would want you to stay locked away here for a year - just because it was the *proper* thing to do?"

Mrs. Garrett looked confused. "I... I don't know."

"You're not committing a crime," Richie went on, "or a sin. You're just going to a small blues club to listen to some good music and visit with some friends. It's not like you're going there to pick up some guy to bring home." He paused for a moment then gave her a stern look. "You *aren't* going there to pick up a guy - are you?"

She giggled. "No, Richie. I always try to leave with the same guy I came with - in this case, you." A dismayed look crossed her face. "Unless you're looking for a pretty girl to..."

"Now why would I need to go looking for a pretty girl," he said, grinning widely, "when I have you? Now are you going to be my date for the evening?"

"I'd be honored, sir," she replied with another giggle.

Richie offered her his arm and escorted her to his truck. When they reached Joe's place, he played the gallant gentleman to the hilt - having watched Duncan do it hundreds of times, it wasn't difficult. From helping her out of her coat, to holding the chair for her when she sat down, he gave her the full treatment. He made sure she always had a fresh drink and even danced with her several times.

One of the times when he went up to the bar to get new drinks, Duncan followed him and clapped him on the shoulder.

"It's a fine thing you're doing, Richie," the Scot said. "This must be very difficult for Millie, but you're making it much easier."

"She just seems so lonely and lost sometimes." He paused for a moment. "I guess I know how that feels," he added in a low tone.

Duncan didn't reply, just clasped the young Immortal's shoulder again before heading back to the table. The Highlander then asked Millie to dance. "I can't let Richie have all the fun," he said, grinning at the younger man.

Richie declared himself exhausted from his long week at work when he sensed Mrs. Garrett had had enough. Soon, he had her back at her door. "Are you glad you went?" he asked.

"Yes, Richie, I am." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You're a very special young man to waste a Saturday evening on an old woman like me. Thank you very much."

"Old? Who's old? Why, you're in your prime," Richie declared.

"Oh, go on with you!" Mrs. Garrett giggled like a school girl. "Before I start taking you seriously."

"'Night, Millie," Richie replied, before heading for his own apartment. He felt like he was floating on air. Duncan's comments earlier that night, as well as Mrs. Garrett's, made him feel good inside.

Tessa was waiting for him by the door and acted like she'd been abandoned for weeks instead of a few hours. Richie made a big fuss over her while he kept reviewing the night. When he finally went to bed, he was still wearing a smile.

* HL * HL

Richie was in the middle of a kata the next morning when Tessa suddenly jumped to her feet and scrabbled across the floor, barking the whole way. A moment later, he heard someone pounding at his door. He found the puppy at the door, jumping up and down in excitement, but he didn't have a clue as to who it would be. Mrs. Garrett wouldn't have pounded like that and he didn't sense any Immortals either.

He unlocked the door and swung it open, holding Tessa back with one foot. Stacy stood on the other side, anger filling her face. For a brief moment, Richie wondered if he would be able to recognize her with a smile on her face. She wasted no time starting on her harangue.

"I want you to stay away from Millie," she started angrily. "I can't believe you actually took her to a *bar*! What were you thinking? I don't know what you're after, but it's going to stop here and now before Millie gets hurt." "Hold on a minute!" Richie stormed back. "What I do with Millie is none of your business. Last time I looked, she was old enough to make her own decisions and I have no intention of staying away from her. She's lonely right now and, the way I figure it, she could use all the friends she can get."

"I know all about con men like you who prey on older women who have been recently widowed. First you toy with her affections and the next thing she'll know, you'll be gone with all her money..."

"What? Lady, you need your head examined! I'm not toying with her affections and I have no interest in her money."

"Then how did you talk her into selling you this place at such a cheap price? Hmmm?" Stacy snapped back.

"That's none of your business! If Millie wants to tell you about our agreement, fine, but you won't hear about it from me. Now, if you don't mind, I've got better things to do than hang around here listening to a stupid...girl!" He almost used another word until he remembered this was one of Millie's friends. He slammed the door in her face before marching back upstairs to his workout area.

Fifteen minutes later, he gave up the kata, unable to find the peace of mind to do it justice. He could still feel his emotions churning away, demanding a more physical workout to release them. He called Duncan and asked for permission to use the dojo equipment.

With Tessa at his heels, he headed outside. Mrs. Garrett and Stacy were working in the vegetable garden and the puppy barked excitedly and ran over to them. Much to Richie's surprise, it was Stacy who received the animal's attention first as the puppy licked her face in greeting. The young man gave both women a few minutes to pet Tessa before calling her back to his side, jingling his keys to entice her away - a signal she'd quickly learned meant going somewhere.

"Traitor," he mumbled to the puppy as he picked her up to put in his truck. "You're not supposed to like her." Tessa just licked his face.

Reaching the dojo, Richie lost no time in attacking the punching bag. He'd told Duncan he was coming right over and the dojo had been unlocked. There wasn't any reason to disturb them - just in case he and Amanda were occupied.

The young Immortal felt his tensions slowly ease away as he took out his frustrations with every blow. He'd just worked up a good sweat when he heard the elevator motor crank on. He kept on with his workout, only lightly paying attention to the sounds of the elevator stopping, the gate lifting, and the Highlander's deep voice greeting Tessa.

Soon, the Scot came over to hold the punching bag which made it easier for Richie to elevate his workout.

"Something wrong?" Duncan asked.

"No!" Richie grunted out, swinging harder at the bag.

The silence grew for a while, only punctuated by the sounds of fists hitting leather.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No!" Richie wanted to ignore the older Immortal, but it was difficult to do when he was practically standing in front of him. He dropped his hands and said, "It's nothing, Mac. Just this crazy girl..."

"Oh, Richie, not already? You've only been back in town for a week."

"No, it's not like that at all. She's a friend of Millie's and yesterday, just before you got there, she practically attacked me. Accused me of taking advantage of Millie. Then she showed up again this morning and almost called me a gigolo! Just because I took Millie to Joe's last night." Richie shook his head in disbelief. "She thinks I'm toying with Millie's affections and that I'm going to steal all her money. I don't understand why she keeps doing this. I've never done anything to her that I can remember."

Duncan remained silent for a while. "Well, she sounds like she cares deeply about Millie and, in her own way, is trying to protect her."

"Oh. I hadn't thought of that." He took a few tentative swipes at the bag before looking directly at the Highlander. "Do I look like that bad of a guy? I mean, she took one look at me and hated me."

"No, you don't look like a bad guy," Duncan replied. "She probably heard about you from Millie and imagined the worse."

"So, what do I do? If this keeps up, Millie's going to be caught in the middle. I don't want that to happen."

"Well, you could sell the place. That would solve your problem."

"No way! She's not going to drive me away!"

"Good. You could just do nothing and, hopefully, she'll realize you're not going to hurt Millie." The Scot paused for a moment. "Or you could try talking to her - try to work things out when you're both calm."

"Yeah, right. It would be like reasoning with a pit bull," Richie said glumly. "I'd have better luck if I just muzzled her."

The Highlander laughed. "Just let me know when you're going to do that. I'd like to watch."

"Sure. Hey, I thought I came over here to work out. All I seem to be doing is talking. I don't need exercise doing that."

"Want to do a little swordwork?"

Richie looked around the dojo, remembering the last time he'd fought Duncan. It had been here, and the Scot had ended up on the floor with the young Immortal's sword at his neck. "No. I'm not ready for that." He looked back at the other man and saw the disappointed look on Duncan's face. "How about quarterstaves instead? You still got some?"

"Sure, Richie. I'll get them." He turned and went upstairs to where the locker room used to be, returning a few minutes later with the two quarterstaves. The Scot tossed one to the young Immortal.

The joust started out slowly, memories of their last fight uppermost in Richie's mind. Seven years ago, the outcome of this type of workout would have almost been guaranteed. Now, he hoped he could hold his own against the more experienced Immortal.

Tessa must have decided their fight looked like fun, so she dashed in between them, barking gleefully, and nipping at their feet.

"Just a sec, Mac. I'll put her in the office," Richie said as he scooped her up. He deposited her in the enclosed room, closing the door to keep her in. She promptly voiced her displeasure with the imprisonment. "No, Tessa!" Richie commanded in a stern voice, pleased when she stopped her barking. "Good girl."

He headed back for the center of the dojo and the waiting Scot. Two steps later, the barking resumed and Richie groaned. "Tessa! NO!" Silence reigned again and the young Immortal waited a few moments before taking a few more steps. When Duncan started to laugh, the young man turned around to see what was so funny. Tessa had somehow managed to climb up onto the desk and was watching them through the glass windows, tail wagging at a frantic pace.

"She's fine, Richie," Duncan called. "Maybe she'll keep quiet if she can see us."

The younger Immortal moved forward and adopted a defensive stance in front of the Highlander. They stared at each other for several long moments as neither one did anything. Suddenly, a mischievous grin appeared on the Highlander's face - a sure sign he was up to no good. Almost immediately, he attacked, but Richie was prepared for him, blocking each lightning move. He didn't try to attack yet, sticking to defense as he observed the other Immortal's moves. In seven years, Duncan could have learned something new or he could have become sloppy. Richie wanted to be prepared for either one.

Slowly, they moved around the dojo. Several times Duncan tried to pin him into a corner, but Richie always managed to slip away. Without warning, the young Immortal attacked with a flurry of blows, almost grinning at the look of astonishment on Duncan's face as he tried to shift to a more defensive posture.

The sounds of the wood sticks crashing against each other flooded the dojo, with only occasional silences as the combatants paused to decide their next moves. Finally, the Highlander backed off and lowered his quarterstaff.

"Very good, Richie," he said, grinning broadly. "You've definitely improved over the years."

Richie beamed at the compliment, while hating himself for doing it. It had been more than ten years since he had become Immortal, but the least bit of praise from his former teacher had him grinning like an idiot.

"Thanks, Mac," he said, quickly turning away to pick up his towel. He wiped the sweat from his face, trying to remove the grin as well. The most important thing was that he had held his own against his opponent. Words of praise shouldn't be needed or counted on. That only led to disappointment and feelings of unworthiness when they didn't come.

A hand clasped his shoulder, startling Richie for a moment and he had to suppress the urge to react defensively. He turned around to face Duncan.

"Richie, I just want you to know, whenever you're ready, I'd be more than happy to spar with you. It can be at whatever level you'd like - serious sparring, training session, or just play. Only then will I feel like you've truly forgiven me for my actions in the past."

Richie shook his head. "It's not about forgiveness, Mac. You already have that." He looked down at the floor, unwilling to meet the older Immortal's eyes as he made his confession. "It's me I don't trust. The last time we fought, I almost took your head. I'm afraid if we sparred with swords that I might succumb to the temptation again."

Duncan placed his hand under Richie's chin and forced it up. "I have no fears of that - and I don't mean that I don't think you could beat me. That night, you were filled with cold rage, but that's gone. Give our friendship a chance again, Richie."

The young Immortal stepped back, breaking the Scot's hold. "I'll think about it, Mac. Okay?"

"Sure. How about some lunch?"

"Thanks, Mac, but I think I'll pass. I have to get home. I have a ton of paperwork to do. It's a lot different from running the dojo, but Millie's been great about showing me what to do."

"Okay, Richie," Mac replied, "but let's do this again soon."

"Sure thing." Richie went over to the office and retrieved Tessa before heading for his truck.

* HL * HL

Richie stopped by a deli on the way home and picked up a sandwich for lunch. As he finished the drive home, he planned everything he wanted to accomplish that day - laundry, bookwork, and going through all the boxes stashed on the second floor. He'd shoved enough of them to one side so he could have room to work out, but it would take some time to look at everything stored there and decide what to keep.

He climbed out of his truck and turned to lift Tessa down. While he reached for his sandwich, the puppy headed for Mrs. Garrett's house. "Come back here, Tessa," he called.

The puppy whined, looking back and forth between the house and Richie.

"We can go see Millie later," Richie promised. "Now, come here!" This time Tessa obeyed and together they went into the apartment.

Several hours later, Richie finally closed the accounting books with a sigh. He really hated doing paperwork - especially the old-fashioned way. First thing he would have to buy when he'd saved enough would be a computer. He found it hard to believe that Greg Garrett had run the business without one.

A knock at the door sent Tessa barking towards the apartment. Richie followed, certain that it would be Mrs. Garrett. It wasn't. Stacy stood at the door, a worried expression on her face.

"Is Millie here?" she asked quietly. "We were supposed to go to a movie this afternoon, but there's no answer at her place."

"No, she's not. I haven't seen her since I left this morning."

Stacy's face grew more worried and Richie couldn't help but wonder at Tessa's earlier attempt to go to Mrs. Garrett's house. Maybe she had heard something a human couldn't - a cry for help maybe? "Did you try opening the door?" he asked as they headed across the lawn.

"Yes, but it's locked. And her car is in the garage. What if something's happened to her?"

"Don't panic yet," Richie counseled, while fighting down his own. Reaching the house, he tried the door, earning him a glare from Stacy.

"I told you it was locked," she pointed out angrily.

Tessa whined and scratched at the door, causing Richie's feeling of dread to mount. He tried to peek inside the window, but he couldn't see anything through the curtains. "Here, hold Tessa," he said, scooping up the puppy and thrusting her at Stacy.

Richie backed up a pace and put all the force he could behind a kick to the door. He heard splintering wood, but the door didn't budge. Two more kicks finally sent it flying open. "Millie?" he called out, praying for an answer.

When no reply came, Richie started searching the house. It didn't take long to find the woman lying at the foot of the stairs. The young Immortal rushed to her side, calling her name. He cautiously searched for a pulse.

Stacy was two steps behind him, still clutching Tessa. "Is she..."

"No. She's just unconscious. Call 911 while I get a blanket to cover her." He jumped to his feet and dashed up the stairs, returning shortly with a quilt from one of the beds. Gently, he covered her, then carefully started checking for broken bones, grateful that one of his previous employers had insisted that all employees attend a Red Cross first-aid course.

Stacy returned just as he finished. "I think she has a broken ankle," Richie informed her. "And maybe some busted ribs, but I can't tell. She must have hit her head when she fell, too."

"The paramedics and the ambulance are on their way," Stacy replied. "And I called her doctor. He's going to meet us at the hospital."

"Good thinking. I'm sure she'll be happier with her own doctor." Richie was glad Stacy had thought of that. It had been so many years since he'd needed a doctor that the thought would never have crossed his mind.

A low moan issued from Mrs. Garrett's mouth and Richie looked down to see her eyelids fluttering. "Millie? Take it easy. You've had a bad fall." He gently picked up her hand and patted it. "Help is on the way."

Stacy moved to her other side, repeating Richie's actions. Tessa had been set on the floor and she crawled close, too, whining a little.

When Richie heard the sirens, he went to the front door to wait for the paramedics. In no time at all, they had Mrs. Garrett prepared to transport to the hospital. "Why don't you go in the ambulance with her," Richie suggested to Stacy. "I'll drive my truck over so you'll have a way to get back home."

Stacy threw him a grateful look before climbing into the ambulance.

Richie watched it as it tore out of the driveway and down the road. He went back inside Mrs. Garrett's house and locked the front door. Scooping up Tessa, he headed for the back door, intent on putting the puppy back in the apartment before he went to the hospital.

The back door swinging in the breeze reminded him that he had broken in. He decided to take the time to secure the door so no one could just walk in. Richie didn't want to waste the time, but he couldn't just leave it the way it was, either. Plus, he now owed her a new door - something he really couldn't afford either.

A sudden thought struck him and he picked up Mrs. Garrett's phone to place a call. Fifteen minutes later, the T-bird pulled into the driveway. Richie showed Duncan the door and left it in his capable hands after promising to update the Scot on the woman's progress as soon as he found out anything.

He found Stacy, by herself, pacing around the waiting room of the hospital. "Is there any word yet?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"No, nothing. What took you so long to get here?" she asked, anger coloring her tone.

"I had to do something about the door. I didn't want someone to be able to just walk in and steal everything."

"Oh." She paused for a moment before continuing. "You really care for her, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess I do," Richie replied. "I haven't known her for long and yet it feels like I've known her forever."

Stacy gave a little laugh. "I guess I understand that. I felt the same way right after I met her. I was a teenage terror and running with a bad crowd, but she really straightened me out. She should have had dozens of kids to mother."

"Yeah, they would have been real lucky kids," Richie said wistfully. "I wish I'd had a mom like her."

"Your mom..." Stacy paused as if she didn't know how to finish the question she obviously wanted to ask.

Richie debated how much to tell her. This was the first time they'd talked without yelling at each other. "I never knew my real mother. I was an orphan and grew up in foster homes or orphanages. They had a lot of trouble placing me in homes because of what happened to me in the first foster home I remember. At the time, I thought Emily Ryan was my mother and I was devastated when I saw her die. I was five at the time."

"How awful," Stacy replied, reaching a hand out to touch his arm in sympathy. "That must have been so rough on you."

"Yeah. I didn't have many good placements and I finally ran away from my last foster home when I was seventeen. I had to grow up pretty fast and learn how to take care of myself. That meant stealing to be able to eat sometimes. Fortunately, I broke into the right place and the couple living there decided to take me in instead of pressing charges. It was the best thing that ever happened to me." Richie knew he was taking a big risk telling Stacy this, but he hoped she'd see how he'd changed.

"Do they live around here?"

"Mac still does, but Tessa... well, she died just over a year after I moved in with them. She was only thirty six. It wasn't fair!" Richie bounded to his feet and started pacing around the waiting room. "She was shot one night by a punk who was so high on drugs he didn't even remember doing it."

"You must have loved her very much," Stacy quietly stated.

Richie looked over at the young woman in surprise, wondering how she knew that. "Yeah, I did. I would have willingly traded places with her that night. She deserved to live a long life."

"And now you have her namesake to keep you company."

Richie blushed lightly. "Was I wrong to give a dog her name? It just seemed so right at the time, but sometimes it seems so..."

"Sacrilegious? I don't think so. Maybe she felt you needed someone, so she sent the puppy to you."

"You really think so?"

"Yes, I do. I strongly believe there is a Heaven and that our loved ones are up there, trying to guide our footsteps. Millie taught me to believe in that. I lost my mother when I was fifteen, but there are times when I'm sure she's watching over me."

A doctor interrupted their chat when she came into the waiting room looking for the family of Mrs. Garrett.

"She doesn't have any family," Richie informed the nurse. "We're her neighbors. I'm Richie Ryan and this is Stacy Campbell. How is Millie... ur... Mrs. Garrett?"

"I'm Doctor Winslow. Mrs. Garrett will be fine. She broke her right ankle and has a concussion as well as bruised ribs. We're going to keep her overnight for observation, but she should be able to go home tomorrow if no complications arise. However, she should have someone stay with her for a few days because she'll be very stiff and sore for a while and have trouble getting around."

"I can do that," Stacy informed the doctor.

"Good. She's in room 228 if you want to go see her."

They thanked the doctor and headed for Mrs. Garrett's room. Stacy rushed to the older woman's side as soon as they came in the door.

"How do you feel, Millie?" she asked.

"I'm all right. Just a little sore. I don't know why they won't let me go home. I'd rather sleep in my own bed. Talk to them for me, please."

"Don't even think about it," Richie warned sternly. "The doctors know best. If they think you need to stay overnight, then you're staying overnight. And that's final."

Stacy stared at him with a look of disbelief mixed with awe before turning back to Mrs. Garrett. "I agree. We'll come pick you up tomorrow and not a minute sooner. Plus, I'm going to come stay with you for a while until you can get around easier."

Tears started trickling down the older woman's face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause all this trouble."

Stacy patted her hand. "You haven't caused any trouble. It was just an accident. You'd do the same thing for me if I needed you."

"What did happen, Millie?" Richie asked, still feeling guilt over not checking on her earlier when Tessa had wanted to.

Mrs. Garrett wiped her face with a tissue Stacy handed her. "I guess I was in too big of a rush when I came down the stairs. It was almost time for Stacy to pick me up, but I wanted to put a load of laundry in the washer. My ankle twisted under me and the next thing I know, you and Stacy were there."

Richie felt relief flood through him. She'd only been lying there for a short time. Tessa hadn't sensed anything wrong after all. "Well, next time, slow down," he commented with a grin.

They visited for a while longer before a nurse chased them out, claiming Mrs. Garrett needed to rest. The ride home was silent until they reached Richie's place.

"I think I owe you an apology - well, maybe several apologies," Stacy started out as they walked toward her car. "I made some awful accusations without waiting to find out what you were really like."

"Yes, you did," Richie replied, "but your apology is accepted. I'm just glad we're past it, for Millie's sake. She doesn't need to have two of her friends feuding with each other."

"I agree, but I'd still like to know why she sold you the store so quickly. If I had any idea she was going to do that, I'd have talked to her sooner. I just hope she doesn't regret it when she has time to think about it."

Richie held onto his temper, but just barely. "She had no desire to keep running the place. It was her husband's love, not hers - although she did support him in it. She also knew she couldn't afford to not sell it, but her lawyer told her she'd have a hard time selling the shop without selling the house, too. That's when I came by. She was crying and it all kind of spilled out."

"Oh, I didn't know that. So, what happened next?"

"Well, she fed me some apple pie before letting me into the shop to see if it had the motorcycle part I needed. I had no intention of buying the place, but the more I looked around, the more I liked it. So, we talked about it for a while and came out with an agreement."

"So you bought the shop without the house then?"

"No. I bought the whole place, but with the proviso that she could continue living there as long as she lived. Plus, she gets a portion of the profits as well until I pay off the mortgage. And, since she holds the mortgage, she's getting interest too - although it's much lower than what I'd find from any bank. Since her original mortgage was paid off when her husband died, she has a free place to live and a steady income. I got a great deal on the place and easy financing terms. We both came out of this ahead."

"I guess so. But what if you decide to sell? Wouldn't that leave her without a home?"

"No. That's built in to the contract. The terms have to be the same or I can't sell. I had no problems with that. And since I'm single, living in that small apartment is no big deal. In fact, it's a step up from some of the places I've lived in before."

"I'm glad we had this chance to talk. I guess I should try to explain why I jumped to my conclusions. I had an aunt who got swindled out of her life savings by a younger man. He made her think she was the most wonderful person in the world, while he was robbing her blind. He convinced her to 'sell' her house to him for a pittance - that it would be a tax shelter. Then he sold it out from underneath her and took off with all the money. She was so embarrassed and upset about it, she committed suicide. So, when it looked like you were pulling the same thing on Millie... well, I jumped to some wrong conclusions."

"That explains a lot," Richie replied. "I understand why you reacted the way you did, but I'm not like that."

"I know that now. I'm glad you bought the place and I hope we can be friends."

"I think we can," Richie replied. "As long as you try to keep your temper under control, it shouldn't be a problem."

"Oh, yeah?" Stacy spat back. "Maybe you should learn to keep your mouth under control." She opened her car door and slid in, slamming the door hard before Richie could reply.

The young Immortal clenched his fists as he watched her drive away. "Good going, Ryan. You couldn't quit while you were ahead, could you?"

He headed inside, berating himself the whole way.

* HL * HL

Methos sighed as he watched the morose Highlander stare into his beer. "Why don't you just call him," he suggested.

"Call who?" Duncan looked up at the older Immortal.

Methos made an exasperated noise. "Richie. You know you want to. After all, it's been four weeks since any of us have seen or heard from him - well, except for Joe and he only gets information from the Watcher organization."

"I can't. I promised him I wouldn't keep checking up on him."

"So, go buy something for your car. He can't complain about that."

Duncan brightened up for a moment, then shook his head, staring back down at his beer. "He'd know. I'm afraid if I push too hard, he'll take off again. I don't want that to happen."

"Fine. Then I'll go see him," Methos offered.

"No! When he's ready, he'll come see us. Until then, I plan on minding my own business."

"Duncan MacLeod - minding his own business - first time for everything," Methos muttered.

* HL * HL

Time seemed to fly for Richie. Busy with the store, he had no idea how fast it had sped by. It was brought home to him when Mrs. Garrett came into the shop one Saturday just before closing. She had her cast off now, but was still limping around.

"Richie, do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?" Mrs. Garrett asked.

"Thanksgiving? Not yet. Why?"

The older woman sighed. "Richie, we have to talk. I've been watching you. For the last six weeks you haven't gone anywhere except to buy groceries, or do laundry, or come to my place for dinner - and you haven't even done that much. And as far as I can tell, you haven't had anyone over, either. Now you tell me you don't have any plans for Thanksgiving - which is only a few days away. I know you have friends in town, so why do you live like a hermit?"

"I don't know," Richie mumbled, as he tried to remember when he'd last seen or talked to Mac. It didn't take too long. It had to be the night that Mrs. Garrett fell down the stairs - and that was back in October. He couldn't even blame it on the shop. There had been plenty of evenings when he'd just puttered around the place - nothing that couldn't have waited.

Guilt flooded through him. "I guess old habits die hard. I... well... I haven't had any friends for a long time. I got used to being by myself," Richie explained. "I just never thought about doing anything."

"I don't understand. At your housewarming party, they all acted like they've known you for years."

Richie felt his face go warm. "We have, but several years ago something happened that drove a wedge between us. I left town without telling any of them where I was going. I only recently learned the truth about what really happened when I came back for a visit. When I found out about the shop, it seemed the perfect opportunity to start over."

"Then start over, Richie. Call your friends. Go to Joe's bar. Ask them over. Do *something*!"

"I will," Richie promised. "And thanks, Millie." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"You're welcome. Now get going," she said, turning to leave.

"Yes, ma'am."

Richie finished closing up the shop while debating what to do. He could just call Duncan and chat, or maybe he should stop by. But Duncan wasn't the only friend who'd been ignored. He'd go to Joe's and hope to find everyone there.

* HL * HL

As Richie opened the door to Joe's bar, he felt the touch of an Immortal. It was probably one of his friends, but he still felt a small rush of adrenaline flow through him. Taking a deep breath, he continued inside, relaxing when he saw the figure at the bar.

"Hey, Adam," he called out, not wanting to use the Immortal's real name since there were other people in the bar. "How you doing?"

"Well, he's alive," Methos replied before looking over at Joe who was standing behind the bar. "See I told you so."

Richie sat down on a stool by the bar. "Hi, Joe. Can I get a beer?" he asked, reaching for the popcorn bowl.

"He can talk, too!" The older Immortal continued. "So, I guess that doesn't explain why he doesn't call his friends. Maybe he's still punishing MacLeod. What do you think, Joe?"

"I think you should drink your beer," Joe replied, shoving a glass in front of Methos. "Here, Richie," he added, placing another glass on the bar. "So, how've you been?"

Richie fought the anger rising inside him. He knew he hadn't been in contact, but that didn't mean Methos had to rub it in. "I'm fine, Joe. Been a little busy with the shop and so forth. Guess time just kind of slipped away from me."

Methos made a rude noise into his beer and Richie could feel blood rush to his face. He turned and faced the other Immortal. "Listen, I didn't do it on purpose! *Some* of us have to work for a living! I'm sorry, okay? It's just going to take some time for me to get used to having friends in the same town again!"

"Right. And have you talked to MacLeod or Amanda lately? Or don't they count as friends."

"I was kinda hoping they'd be here tonight. That way I'd get all my apologizing done at once."

"Sorry, Richie, but they won't be here tonight," Joe said. "Some big shindig at his publishing company."

"Damn! Guess I'll have to go over to the dojo and grovel tomorrow."

"I don't know about the grovel part, but talking to him wouldn't hurt," Joe replied. "MacLeod has been a little... concerned about you."

"Then why didn't he just call or stop by? Why do I have to make all the effort?" Richie asked.

"Well, according to MacLeod, a certain person didn't want him checking up on him constantly," Joe answered.

"Oh... Yeah... But I didn't mean it that way!"

"Maybe the two of you need to talk and clarify this," Joe suggested before changing the subject. "So, how's Tessa?"

"You wouldn't believe how big she's grown, Joe," Richie started out, holding his hands apart to indicate her size. "Or how smart she is. Why just last week..." The young Immortal rambled on about her exploits for a while until he noticed the bemused expression on the Watcher's face. He flushed deeply. "Sorry, Joe. Guess I got carried away."

"It's all right, Richie. After all, I asked. I'm just surprised you didn't pull pictures out of your wallet and start flashing them around like a proud father."

"I probably would have," Richie replied sheepishly, "if I had any."

"Saved from a fate worse then death," Methos chimed in.

"What's the matter, Adam? Get up on the wrong side of bed this morning?" Richie sniped back. "Or should I say this century?" he added in a much lower tone.

"Stop it, you two!" Joe commanded. "I swear - sometimes it's hard to decide which one of you is younger. You can both act like children. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go play. Try not to kill each other while I'm gone - okay?"

The two Immortals shrugged in unison which caused Joe to shake his head. "Immortals - can't live with them, can't kill them," he muttered before walking away.

Richie spun around on the stool and surveyed the bar. It was starting to fill up - mostly couples, but there were a few groups of women scattered about. One of them, a well-built brunette, smiled at Richie and he returned it with a brief smile of his own.

"I think she likes me," Methos claimed, deciding to give Richie a hard time. "Maybe I should go over and join her at her table."

"Who?" Richie asked, trying to figure out which woman he was talking about.

"The brunette over there - the one that just smiled."

"She was smiling at me, Adam, not you!" Richie protested.

"Maybe you should get your eyes checked, Ryan," Methos sneered, trying to hide his grin. "She was definitely smiling at me. She recognizes quality when she sees it."

"You're right," Richie agreed, beginning to think he was being played. He tried to read the older Immortal's face but it was impossible. So he kept playing on. "That's why she was smiling at me."

The two Immortals glared at each other for a moment before breaking into grins.

"You can have her, she's not my type," Richie offered, just to see what Adam would do. A brief vision of a blond-haired, blue-eyed spitfire flashed through his mind, but the young Immortal pushed it away. He'd seen her several times in the last six weeks when they'd both been invited to dinner by Mrs. Garrett, but that didn't mean she was his type! He didn't intend to get involved with a woman right now.

"She's young and female - I thought that made her your type?"

"Nah. I've set higher standards for myself, now," Richie explained with a grin. "But don't let that stop you."

"Hmmm. Maybe I'll wait for a while. See who else turns up."

Richie shrugged, realizing Methos had been pulling his leg, and turned his attention to the band. When they had finished playing, Joe returned to the bar and the threesome talked some more. Finally, the young Immortal stood up.

"Got to go, guys. I'll see you around - and it won't be six weeks this time," Richie promised.

"Okay, Richie," Joe said. "Say hi to Tessa for me."

"Later, kid," Methos added.

Richie gave a brief wave and headed for the door, missing the ensuing conversation.

"Why didn't you invite him over for Thanksgiving, Joe?" Methos asked.

"I'll let MacLeod have the honors - after all, he's technically the host. We're just having it at my place because it's bigger, but he's doing all the work."

Methos shrugged. "I guess you're right."

* HL * HL

The next day, Richie drove over to the dojo, taking Tessa with him. He'd meant to go over earlier in the day, but by the time he'd finished the books, gone for a run, and done his laundry, it was late afternoon. As he walked inside, he heard the elevator and waited to see who was on it. The gate slid up and Duncan and Amanda exited. The Scot was wearing a suit and tie, and Amanda had on one of her black mini-dresses.

Tessa gave a woof and scrabbled across the floor, sliding to a halt in front of Duncan. The Highlander bent down and stroked her head for a few moments before the puppy launched herself at Amanda.

The female Immortal stooped down and hugged the exuberant Tessa. "So, you decided to be friendly after all, did you?" she scolded lightly.

"Amanda! No!" Richie almost shouted as he dashed across the floor to pull Tessa off the woman.

"What's wrong, Richie?" Amanda asked with a puzzled look.

"I'm sorry, Amanda," Richie replied as he pointed to her black dress - now festooned with blonde dog hair. "Tessa is shedding."

"Ooooohhh! Duncan, look what she did to my dress!" Amanda squealed.

"I'm sure it wasn't intentional, Amanda," Duncan soothed her. "Why don't you go change? And you'd better hurry or we'll be late."

"I guess this isn't a good time for a visit," Richie said as they watched Amanda dart into the elevator.

"I'm sorry, Richie. We're driving down to Seattle to attend an art show of a friend of ours. You should've called first."

"Guess I just keep screwing up," Richie said. "Well, I won't keep you. I just wanted to say I'm sorry for not calling or visiting sooner. I'm just too used to being alone. I didn't realize how long it had been."

"There's nothing to apologize for," Duncan replied, clasping Richie's shoulder as he smiled at him.

"Well, Joe and Methos seemed to think you were a little upset over my lack of... communication."

"Oh? When did you see them?" A puzzled look crossed the Scot's face.

"Last night. I stopped by Joe's hoping you'd all be there, but you were at some party or something."

"Yes, it was for my publishing company. We have one every year for the employees. I had to be there since I'm the boss."

"The big guy, huh?" Richie teased lightly. "You know, when I said I didn't want you checking up on me, I didn't mean you couldn't call me now and then or even stop by occasionally."

Duncan looked over at Tessa who was investigating the dojo. "I didn't want to intrude... or make you feel threatened by my presence." He paused for a moment. "I didn't want to drive you away."

"As long as you don't do it every day, I can handle it, Mac. I *want* to be friends." Richie paused as the elevator started up again. "I guess I'd better grab Tessa and take off before she sheds all over Amanda again," he suggested, grinning at the older Immortal.

"That might be a good idea, otherwise we'll never get there. I'll give you a call later."

"Okay, Mac. See you." Richie dragged a reluctant Tessa out to his truck.

When the elevator reached the dojo floor, Duncan assured Amanda that it was safe to come out.

"Did you invite Richie to Thanksgiving dinner?" she asked as they headed for the T-bird.

"No. Richie was at Joe's last night. He would have already invited him."

"Of course. Maybe I should call Richie and tell him to leave that beast at home," she suggested.

"Don't even think about it," Duncan warned her. "If he wants to bring Tessa, he can."

Amanda sank back into the car seat, a pout on her face.

* HL * HL

Mrs. Garrett cornered Richie on Tuesday. "All right, Richie. Did you get together with your friends?"

"Kinda. I saw Adam and Joe Saturday night at Joe's bar. Then on Sunday, I went to visit Mac and Amanda, but they were on their way out," Richie explained. "But Mac and I had a chat on the phone last night." They hadn't talked about much of anything - just how each of their businesses were doing. And of course, they had talked about Tessa. It was a start. "Good. So, have you been invited to spend Thanksgiving with anyone?"

"Yeah, we're all getting together," Richie replied, lying through his teeth. He wasn't about to tell this woman that none of his friends had even mentioned the holiday. "So, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to spend it at a friend's house. We've been taking turns over the years. It's going to seem strange going without Greg..."

"You'll do just fine," Richie replied. "I know you'll have a good time."

* HL * HL

On Thanksgiving day, Richie donned his nicest outfit as if he really was going somewhere. Mrs. Garrett had told him what time she was leaving and he had told her he was leaving at the same time. Calling to Tessa, he headed out to his truck when he saw her come outside.

"Happy Thanksgiving," he called cheerfully, waving at Mrs. Garrett.

"Same to you," came her reply.

Richie coaxed Tessa into the truck and climbed in after her. He'd briefly thought about driving around for a short time and then coming back, but he didn't want to risk someone mentioning it to the woman later. Instead he headed up into the hills, looking for a quiet place to spend the day.

* HL * HL

Duncan cheerfully bustled around Joe's kitchen, a big smile on his face. There was nothing like spending a holiday with friends to put him in a good mood. Glancing at the clock, he pulled the turkey out of the oven and inspected it carefully. "I think it's done," he finally proclaimed. "Joe, what time did you tell Richie to be here? Or is he running late?"

Joe gaped at the Immortal. "*I* didn't invite Richie - I thought you would."

"I didn't invite him, either. I assumed you did since you saw him before I did." Suddenly, the joy had gone out of the day for the Scot.

"Oh, no," Amanda moaned. "Duncan, go call him now. Tell him he doesn't have to dress up or anything - just come over as he is."

Duncan quickly moved to the phone and dialed Richie's number. He let it ring ten times before hanging up. "He's not there," he announced.

"Maybe he got invited to Millie's instead," Joe suggested.

"Maybe." Duncan moved back to the stove and stared down at the turkey. Suddenly, he spun around. "Joe, why don't you check with Richie's Watcher? He could tell us where Richie is."

"It's Thanksgiving, MacLeod!" Joe protested. "Richie's Watcher is home with his family today."

Duncan turned back to the stove, guilt flooding through him. He couldn't believe this had happened. He wouldn't blame Richie one bit if he refused to ever talk to them again.

Amanda moved up close and hugged the Highlander. "It wasn't your fault or Joe's, and Richie will understand that."

Duncan briefly hugged her. "I hope so."

Methos wandered in from the living room, beer in hand. He looked at all the glum faces in the kitchen and asked, "What happened? Did MacLeod burn the turkey?"

* HL * HL

Richie had driven for several hours before he finally pulled into a parking lot of a state park. Tessa had been fidgeting for a while, and he figured this would be a good place to give her a little exercise. He snapped her leash on and headed down one of the paths.

Richie inhaled the clean, pine-scented air, enjoying it immensely. Unfortunately, the sun wasn't shining, but at least it wasn't raining. When they reached a wide, open meadow, the young Immortal removed Tessa's leash and pulled her favorite toy out of his pocket. With a flick of his arm, he sent the ball sailing through the air. Tessa barked happily and chased after it.

She returned the ball to him, growling playfully as he tried to take it from her. Eventually, he succeeded, and sent it flying again. Tessa was halfway to the ball when she stopped in her tracks and looked to the side. Richie followed her glance and saw two Irish Setters loping across the meadow.

The young Immortal called Tessa's name frantically, trying to get her to return, but she ignored him and headed towards the other two dogs. Visions of the puppy being mauled by the other two animals sent Richie running after Tessa, although he knew he wouldn't reach her in time.

As the dogs approached each other, they slowed and then came to a stop. Tails wagging, they sniffed each other cautiously and Richie slowed down himself. A few moments later, the three dogs were running around each other playfully. As Richie approached, the two Irish Setters dashed over to him and knocked him to the ground by jumping up at him. Tessa pounced on the young Immortal's chest, driving the air from his lungs, and licked his face while the other two stood there drooling over him.

"Missy! Jo-Jo! Heel!" A female voice yelled.

The two Irish Setters woofed and ran to the voice's owner. A moment later, a familiar face peered down at him. "Richie? Is that you? Are you okay? I'm really sorry. I hope they didn't scare you."

"Hi, Stacy," Richie said as he pushed Tessa to one side and sat up. "No, they didn't hurt or scare me. Do they belong to you?"

"No, they belong to my grandparents. They were getting a little rambunctious with all the people running around the house, so I offered to take them for a walk. I didn't expect anyone to be here, otherwise I would have left them on their leashes."

Tessa had returned to her ball and now she dropped it at Stacy's feet, barking at her to join the game. The young woman obliged, scooping up the ball and sending it flying. The Irish Setters whined, but didn't move from their spot, impressing Richie with their obedience.

"They're very well trained," he commented. "I suppose they attended a lot of obedience courses."

"Not really. Grandma and Grandpa trained them themselves, and they showed me how to do it, too. Someday, I want to get my own dog. It's not too difficult once you learn the technique. I could show it to you sometime," she replied, smiling shyly.

"I'd like that," Richie replied. "Why don't you let them go play with Tessa?" he suggested.

Stacy made a signal and both dogs raced away. "So, why aren't you spending the day with your... oh, I forgot, you don't have any family, do you?"

Richie shook his head, turning away to watch the dog's antics.

"I tell you what," Stacy started in a playful tone, "I'll loan you some of mine for the day. My grandparents had nine children who produced twenty grandchildren - most of whom are married. There's even four great-grandchildren now. Add in all the spouses, stepkids, etc. and the place is a zoo. To be honest, walking the dogs was just an excuse to get away for a while. My family can be pretty overwhelming at times."

"Wow. It sounds like it. I really envy you."

"And I can't wait to get away from them. I swear if I have one more person ask me when I'm going to get married - I'll scream!"

Richie felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. "Oh? Are you engaged?" he asked nonchalantly, struggling to understand why the question seemed so important.

"No! And they all act like I'm some kind of freak because I'm not. It's not like I'm over the hill or anything like that."

A wave of relief flooded through Richie. "Of course not. You've got plenty of time before you have to worry about that."

"What about you?" Stacy asked, flushing lightly. "Are you...involved with someone?"

"No," Richie answered, somewhat absentmindedly, noticing for the first time how close together they were standing. He could smell her light perfume, or maybe it was her shampoo. Her lips curled up in a smile and he had the sudden urge to kiss her. He quickly stepped back. "Ummm... I have to go. See you later." He called to Tessa, not missing the disappointed look on Stacy's face.

It took all his strength to walk instead of run from the park.

* HL * HL

Richie tossed and turned all night, his mind and body unable to stop thinking about Stacy. He didn't understand it, after all, he'd learned his lesson that women only got him in trouble. For the past seven years, he'd managed to avoid entanglements and had thought he'd managed to control his hormones.

Maybe his body was betraying him because it had gone so long without. Or maybe it was because he wasn't working all the time. Those long years had been a struggle while he tried to pay off the debts he'd been stuck with from his one and only wife. What a mistake she had turned out to be. He had been working two or three jobs at a time and hadn't had the spare time or the money to even think about women.

Whatever the reason, he knew sleep was out of the question. Tessa sent him a reproachful look when he climbed out of bed, but she didn't join him - just burrowed further under the covers. Richie climbed the stairs to the second floor and started lifting weights, trying to drive his body into submission.

Exercise routine completed, he looked around the large room, noting the boxes still piled on the other side. He'd been avoiding this dull task, maybe now would be a good time to start it. The sun hadn't even come up yet so he had several hours before he would have to open the shop. With a sigh, he stood up and headed for the boxes.

Two hours later, Richie looked around. He had one large stack of boxes that contained paperwork related to the store. Most of it was too old to be of any use. A much smaller stack had promotional items like pencils with the store name stenciled on them - he could use those.

There were only six boxes left and he glanced at his watch, trying to decide if he had time to finish the task. Tessa decided for him, having finally gotten up, she wanted to go outside. Grabbing a couple of the boxes to be trashed he followed her downstairs and let her out, carrying the boxes over to the garage for later disposal.

He went inside and changed to running clothes, returning outside with Tessa's leash. She was finally getting large and strong enough to run with him as long as he kept to a slow pace and a short run.

Richie saw the T-bird parked in the driveway just before he felt the presence of another Immortal as he returned from his run. Wondering what would bring the Highlander over this early in the morning caused him to pick up his pace.

"Hey, Mac," he called out as he approached. "What's up?"

The older Immortal climbed out of his car. "I came to apologize and explain about the mix-up," Duncan replied.

"What mix-up?" Richie unlocked the door and led the way inside. He poured each of them coffee while the Scot explained.

"So, you see, we didn't *mean* to exclude you. We tried to get hold of you, but there wasn't any answer."

Richie kicked himself mentally. If he hadn't been so busy trying to hide the fact that he had nowhere to go on Thanksgiving, he could've spent it with his friends. He could tell by the look of remorse on the Scot's face that it had been an oversight. There was no way to tell the other Immortal that he'd been alone, without hurting Duncan even more.

"That's okay, Mac. I had a great time. Turkey, stuffing, potatoes, gravy, pumpkin pie, the whole works. I made a pig of myself."

Duncan laughed. "That figures. Maybe it was better you weren't with us. There may not have been enough to go around then."

A knock on the door interrupted them. Richie went to answer it, puzzled as to why he was so popular this morning. Stacy stood outside, holding a large picnic basket.

"Hi, Richie. You ran off yesterday before I could invite you to come back to my grandparents' place. I felt so guilty knowing you were spending the holiday alone that I brought you your own personal turkey dinner. All you have to do is reheat it tonight for dinner. In fact, there's probably enough in here for several meals."

"Thanks, Stacy," Richie replied. "Would you like to come over tonight and eat with me?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back. What was he thinking?

"Sure, Richie, I'd like that," Stacy said, smiling broadly. "What time?"

"About seven?"

"Great. See you then. I've got to run or I'll be late for work. Bye!"

Richie turned back to the apartment carrying the basket. He was met with a glaring look that only a 400-year-old Highlander could have.

"So, you had a good time yesterday? Made a pig of yourself? Why, Richie? Why did you lie about it?" Duncan growled out.

Richie felt blood rush to his face. "Listen, Mac, I just didn't want you to feel guilty, okay? So, I spent the day alone - no big deal. I've been doing that for the last seven years. No reason for it to change now."

"Yes, there is a reason for it to change now!" Duncan almost yelled. "You have friends here in town! You don't have to spend the holidays alone! All you had to do was call!"

"Wait a minute," Richie burst in, anger filling him now. "I'm not so needy that I have to call and beg my *friends* to let me spend a holiday with them. I have some pride left!"

Duncan took a deep breath before replying, "Of course you do, Richie. I'm just sorry it got in the way of us spending the holiday together."

"I'm sorry, too. Next time I *will* call, Mac."

"No, there won't be a need to call. You're spending Christmas with us and that's final. I'll let you know where it will be later. Understood?"

"Understood," Richie replied with a grin. "I'll jot it down on my social calendar to make sure I don't forget."

"You do that! And while you're at it, put down Joe's tomorrow night."

"Sure thing, Mac. Now, I need to shower before I open the store or I'll drive all my customers away."

"Okay, Richie, I can take a hint. See you tomorrow night."

Richie headed for the shower, letting Duncan see himself out.

* HL * HL

Early Sunday morning, Richie let himself back into his apartment, feeling thoroughly disgusted with himself. The Friday night dinner with Stacy had been a resounding success and a failure at the same time. She'd been a wonderful dinner companion and it seemed like they had laughed the night away. But, he couldn't stop the feelings he had for her. He had wanted her so badly, he'd almost asked her to stay the night - and he was pretty certain she would have said yes.

At the last moment, he had stopped himself, deciding it would be better to ease his urges with someone else. After all, he only needed a one-night stand. That was all and he would be over this crazy obsession. It was just his body that was involved - nothing else.

So, he escorted her to her car when the evening was over, kissing her lips briefly despite his resolve. Then he'd gone to Joe's last night with only one thing on his mind. And he'd accomplished it. He'd left the bar in the company of a buxom red-head and spent the night at her place.

While his body had found relief, his mind hadn't. He might as well have done it alone. And he'd done the unpardonable sin, calling the woman Stacy in the heat of the moment. So, what did he do now?

Tessa had obviously been upset over being left alone all night. She'd chewed a hole in the arm of the couch. Richie didn't bother disciplining her - it was his fault for leaving her alone all night.

Already in the dumps, Richie decided to finish tackling the second floor. He changed into grubby clothes, grabbed a broom, mop, and bucket of water and trudged up the stairs. The first thing he did was finish hauling all the boxes he'd already examined downstairs. That left the six remaining boxes.

With a sigh, he opened the first one. For a moment, he couldn't believe the contents. It was filled with scrap and photo albums. He flipped through several of the photo albums. Most of the pictures showed outdated styles of hair and clothes. And some of the cars were classics! He'd have to show these to Millie and see if she recognized the people.

Box two had more paperwork in it as did box number three. Box four yielded something much better. It was filled with baseball cards. Richie looked through some of them quickly, feeling his excitement grow. Mickey Mantle. Babe Ruth. He'd learned about the price of these things years ago, working at the antique store. He couldn't be sure, but he had a feeling he was holding a small fortune in his hands.

They must have belonged to Mrs. Garrett's husband. She must not have known they were here, otherwise she would have removed them prior to the sale. Legally, he could probably make a case that they now belonged to him since he'd bought the shop and everything it contained, but that didn't make it right.

With a sigh, he closed up the box and set it with the photo albums. Two more boxes to go. One contained more promotional items. The last one was another treasure chest - this time filled with comic books! Whoever had collected them, had stored them in clear plastic liners. They were in top condition - just like the baseball cards.

Richie carried the rest of the boxes downstairs, setting the three personal ones on the table to be delivered to Mrs. Garrett later in the day. Right now, he had a date with a mop.

* HL * HL

Once satisfied that the second floor would even pass the Highlander's strict standards for clean, Richie took a quick shower, then headed over to Mrs. Garrett's. He only took the one box over - the one containing the photo albums and scrap books.

Stacy was visiting and Richie felt his face go red. There was no way she could know what he did last night, but he still felt guilty. At the same time, he was pleased to see her. He had to get himself under control!

"I found this up on the second floor, Millie," Richie said, turning his mind back to business. "I brought it over to see if you know who these people are."

Mrs. Garrett took the first photo album out, and flipped through the pages. "This must have belonged to Greg's older brother Michael. He and his whole family died in a car accident a few years ago. I remember we got some things from his estate, but I don't remember ever going through them. Greg was so upset about it, he must have shoved the box in the storage room and forgot about it."

"Well, there are two more boxes I need to bring over. One has baseball cards and one has comic books. They could be worth something now." He didn't want to get her hopes up about their true value until he had a chance to verify it.

"They belong to you, Richie," Mrs. Garrett replied. "You bought everything in the store - lock, stock and barrel."

"No way," Richie protested. "If you had known these boxes were there, you would have taken them out. We could be talking about a lot of money here. I can't keep them."

"And I won't take them back," Mrs. Garrett responded, stubbornly.

Stacy laughed. "I think we need a compromise here. Why don't you split them up 50-50?"

Richie and Mrs. Garrett glared at each other for several long moments. Finally, they both smiled and replied, "Agreed!"

"Do you want to keep them or do you want to sell them?"

"Well, I don't have any use for comics or baseball cards. I think we should sell them."

"Okay," Richie replied. "I've worked with a few dealers in the area before. I'll document everything in the boxes, and check out a price list, then I'll see what kind of offers I can get."

"I'll help you, Richie," Stacy offered.

"It's going to be pretty dull stuff," Richie warned, uncertain if he wanted to discourage her or not.

"I don't care," she replied.

Deciding there was no time like the present, Richie and Stacy went to a bookstore and bought the most current price guides they could find. They then stopped at her place so she could bring her laptop computer - claiming it would speed up the process of documenting.

It took them almost three weeks, working several hours every night, to get the cards and comic books all documented and priced. Sometimes, they would go out and get a sandwich together, after they had finished for the night. And some nights, they just talked for hours. Richie almost wished he could find another box of cards, just so he would have an excuse to have Stacy by his side every night. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so much or felt so carefree.

When Stacy produced the final total, they stared at each other in shock.

"That can't be right," Richie muttered. "There must be a decimal point wrong somewhere." He scanned through the data again, but couldn't find anything wrong. Excitement flooded through him. If they got this much, his portion would easily pay off the mortgage and still leave him with a healthy nest egg. "I'm rich!" he said before grabbing Stacy and swinging her around.

"Slow down, Richie. First you have to sell the things," Stacy warned him.

"Details. Details." Richie waved his hand in the air. "I think this calls for a celebration!"

"Just don't go spending money you don't have yet," Stacy replied. "How about we go to that bar you took Millie to? We could invite her along."

Richie paused for a moment, trying to decide if he wanted to introduce Stacy to his friends. "Sure, why not? Do you like the blues?"

"I don't know. I don't think I've ever heard any."

"What? Girl, you've led a sheltered life! Just stick with me and I'll show you all kinds of new things," Richie said, grinning broadly.

"Oh, I intend to," Stacy replied, reaching up to pull Richie's face down. She pressed her lips against his, and started to kiss him.

Totally shocked by her action, it took a few moments before Richie returned the kiss. When she went to back away, he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, reluctant to end the embrace. Finally, he withdrew, staring down into her bemused expression.

"I... I'm sorry..." he managed to say with some difficulty.

"I'm not," Stacy replied. "Despite our rocky start, I think I love you, Richie. I know - it's hard to believe." She grinned wryly. "But these weeks have been wonderful. I couldn't wait to get here each night and I hated having to go home alone."

Richie shook his head. "You don't want to get involved with me," he said almost desperately. "I'll just end up hurting you."

"How? How will you hurt me, Richie?" Stacy pleaded.

"I can't explain it! Not totally." Richie's mind spun around, trying to come up with a reason. "I've just had one failed relationship after another. I'm no good at this!"

"I'm willing to take the risk, Richie. I'll try not to push you or crowd you. I just want to be with you."

Richie cupped Stacy's face in his hands. "Are you sure? I can't make any promises. I might come home one day and tell you I'm leaving - with or without you. I won't be able to explain and if you say no, I'll go alone. Or even worse, I might not even tell you I'm leaving - I just won't come home one night. And there will be times when I won't be able to explain something. If you push me, I'll walk out." He paused for a moment. "I want you to think about what that would be like, Stacy, before you decide anything."

"I'm just supposed to trust you? Even if I think you're seeing someone else?" Stacy asked, a touch of anger in her voice.

"I promise you this. If we continue this relationship, I won't see anyone else. I promise to be faithful to you - no matter what else happens. You have my word on that. I want you to go home now. Think about what I just said." He glanced at the clock. "I'll pick you up in three hours to go to Joe's. You can give me your answer then."

"All right, Richie. I *will* think about it, but I'm pretty certain what my answer is going to be." She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him gently on the lips.

* HL * HL

Richie escorted Stacy into Joe's. Mrs. Garrett had already accepted another invitation for the evening, so the two of them were alone. Methos was at the bar, drinking his customary beer, but there was no sign of Duncan. He selected a larger table and steered Stacy towards it.

The older Immortal came over to the table almost immediately and asked Stacy to dance.

"Find your own, Adam," Richie replied. "This lady is with me."

"No fair, Ryan. You can't keep this lovely lady to yourself. Weren't you ever taught to share with your friends? And aren't you going to introduce us? Where are your manners?"

"My manners are just fine. Stacy, this is Adam. Don't trust him. Don't believe a word he says. Don't let him lure you into a dark corner." Richie paused, trying to come up with some more warnings.

Stacy giggled. "I suppose that means I shouldn't dance with him either?"

"Oh, absolutely not," Richie replied with a grin. "He's got two left feet and he'll break your toes if you try to dance with him. I, on the other hand..."

"Dances like an elephant," Methos interrupted, a gleam in his eyes. "I've seen more grace in a herd of water buffalo. Why, when Richie here gets on the dance floor, everyone else runs for cover!"

"Sounds just about my speed," Stacy claimed, standing up and pulling Richie along with her. "Let's give it a whirl."

The young Immortal wanted to laugh at the expression on the older one's face, but settled for a triumphant smile instead. He followed Stacy onto the dance floor and pulled her into his arms. She fit just right.

Two dances later, Richie reluctantly went back to the table with Stacy. Duncan and Amanda had arrived and he introduced them all to her. Joe came over just in time to be introduced, as well. They sat around and chatted for a while, until Amanda announced she wanted to dance. She rose to her feet gracefully, and walked around to where Richie was sitting. "C'mon, Richie. It's your turn."

Richie turned startled eyes towards the Highlander, who only shrugged and raised his drink in salute. The young Immortal felt himself being drawn away from the table. He didn't want to dance with her, but he didn't want to cause a scene either. When they reached the dance floor, Amanda wrapped herself around the young Immortal.

"Amanda! Behave yourself! Not so tight," Richie complained as he tried to loosen her hold on him.

"What's wrong? Afraid the girlfriend will get jealous? Maybe if she thinks she has some competition, it might spice up your love life."

"Amanda, I don't want my love life spiced up! I'm doing just fine on my own," Richie explained. "Unless, you just blew my love life out of the water by this little act."

Amanda pulled back a little. "So, you do have a love life, hmmm? I'm glad to see you're over that little tramp you married."

Richie turned serious eyes to Amanda. "I was over her before I left Seacouver. That's not why I've been a loner. I was afraid to trust my feelings for a woman. I don't have a great track record in that department, as I'm sure Mac would tell you."

Amanda leaned over and kissed Richie's cheek. "Well, this time it looks like you might have a winner."

"Thanks, Amanda," Richie replied. He gratefully escorted her back to the table when the song was over - until he saw the look on Stacy's face. Deciding that quick action was called for, he pulled her to her feet, and almost dragged her out to the dance floor. "Listen, Stacy, it wasn't what it looked like. Amanda was being... well, Amanda!"

"So, have you slept with her before? Is she an old lover?" Stacy asked.

"Me? Sleep with Amanda? Never in a million years! She's too dangerous." Richie spun Stacy around so she could see the table. Amanda was practically sitting in Duncan's lap. "See? She's with Mac. He can handle her, I can't. She knows how to wrap me around her little finger."

"Hmmm. Maybe I should take some lessons from her," Stacy replied, a thoughtful look on her face. "Then you wouldn't be running around with another woman's lipstick on your face."

Richie blushed, remembering the kiss Amanda had given him. He reached up and scrubbed at his cheek. "I'm sorry, Stacy. Honestly, you don't have anything to worry about when it comes to Amanda."

Stacy kept watching the table while they finished the dance. Shortly after Richie had escorted her back, she announced she needed to use the restroom. A few moments later, Amanda made the same announcement and was gone before either Duncan or Richie could stop her.

"Oh, no," Richie moaned. "Put me out of my misery now. Amanda is going to ruin everything! Why can't you keep her under control, Mac?"

"Like he has a chance," Methos muttered. "Amanda has him figured out."

"Yeah," Richie agreed, ignoring the Highlander's scowl, "absolutely no chance. She should be locked away where she can't cause any trouble."

"Maybe a convent," Methos suggested.

"Nope. Wouldn't work," Richie replied. "She'd drive all the nuns to drink or insanity."

"True. Or else she'd teach them how to rob the Vatican. I guess MacLeod is stuck with her."

"Are you two through?" Duncan asked. "I can handle Amanda just fine."

Richie and Methos exchanged a look before starting to laugh. "Sure, Mac. You just go on thinking that," Richie said, clapping a hand on the other Immortal's shoulder.

"Oh, shut up," Duncan growled, before changing the subject. "We're going out to dinner for my birthday on Thursday. You're invited and you can bring Stacy along if you'd like - assuming she's still talking to you." He grinned evilly at the younger man.

"Thanks, Mac," Richie replied. "I'll let you know in a few days."

"Fine. Our usual training time tomorrow?"

Richie agreed. They had started meeting every Sunday at the dojo to work out together. The young Immortal still avoided swordwork, but he enjoyed the sessions with the Highlander.

Richie kept an eye on the hallway leading to the restroom. It was sure taking them a long time and he was starting to get worried. He was just about to send one of the waitresses to see if there was a problem, when Amanda and Stacy appeared. Much to Richie's surprise, the two women were giggling together. He couldn't decide if that was good or bad news for him. He would have to wait and see.

He brought up the subject on the way home. "So, what did Amanda say to you in the restroom?"

"Just girl talk," Stacy replied, snuggling up closer to Richie. "Nothing for you to worry about."

Richie moaned. "Now I'm really worried! C'mon, Stacy, tell me!"

"Relax, Richie. First, Amanda warned me not to hurt you - that I would have *her* to deal with if I did. She really cares about you. I promised her I wouldn't."

"And that started the two of you giggling?" Richie asked, while pondering the idea that Amanda cared about him. It seemed hard to believe.

"Noooo... She also gave me some pointers... Things to do in bed..." Stacy giggled. "I can't wait to try some of them out - like maybe tonight?"

Richie glanced over at Stacy. "Are you sure? Really sure? You understand I can't make any promises?"

"I don't understand, Richie, but I'll accept it, for now. Maybe when you see that you can't chase me away, you'll be more willing to make those promises."

Richie clasped her hand. "I hope so, Stacy. I just don't have good luck with relationships."

"Maybe you should tell me about them. That way, I'll know how to avoid those pitfalls."

Richie glanced at her, distrust filling him. That didn't sound like such a good idea. "I thought it was a bad idea to talk about former lovers?"

"I won't hold it against you. I promise," Stacy replied, squeezing his hand. "Trust me with this much."

Richie sighed. "Let's see... There was Felicia, but she only wanted revenge against Mac. I was just a pawn in her little game. Mac and Tessa took me to Paris and we lived there for a while. I met this wonderful woman - thought it was true love - turned out she was married to a man old enough to be her father. Then I met this model - she dumped me for a race car driver. And that was after I tried to help her and ended up in jail! Then there was Kristen. She turned out to be mentally unbalanced and insanely jealous. She tried to kill me and a friend of mine because she thought we were lovers. But I guess my worst failure was Elspeth."

"What happened with her?"

"What didn't happen? She lied to me. She drove Mac and me apart. Then she left me so deep in debt it took almost seven years to dig myself out. She's probably the main reason I'm having a hard time committing to anyone again."

"I can understand that," she said, sympathetically. "You don't want to get hurt again. But there's a difference between all those girls and me..." Stacy paused dramatically.

"Yeah?" Richie prodded her. "And what would that be?"

"Well, they all wanted you for your body!" Stacy announced.

"And you don't?" Richie couldn't believe his ears.

"Nope. I'm after your money!"

For a moment, Richie thought she was serious. After all, she'd made her move right after they found out how much the baseball cards and comics were worth. Then Stacy started giggling, and he realized he'd been had.

"Aha! Now the truth comes out! You want my half of the baseball cards! Well, you'll never get them! Never! Never! Never!" Richie played along.

"Hmmm. Guess I'll have to try some of Amanda's suggestions and seduce you out of them."

"You can try," Richie said, leering evilly at her as he pulled up next to his home. "One last chance, Stacy," he added, turning serious. "I could take you home and we could forget all of this."

"No. I want to do this. Stop trying to change my mind." She climbed out of the truck and he joined her.

Richie unlocked the apartment door and they went inside. Tessa acted like she had been abandoned for weeks instead of hours - her usual greeting style.

"I'm going to take Tessa out," Richie said. "Make yourself comfortable."

At first, when he got back inside, he didn't see Stacy. Then he saw a movement on his bed. She was already under the covers, just her head, bare shoulders and arms sticking out.

"Well, you said make myself comfortable," Stacy said with a grin. "I'm nice and comfy here. Why don't you join me?" She patted the empty half of the bed.

Tessa took that as an invitation and jumped up next to her, curling around and lying down. Stacy and Richie burst out laughing.

Stacy finally got her giggles under control. "Okay, Richie, one of us has to go. Which one do you want to share a bed with?"

Richie acted like he was thinking about it. That earned him a shocked "Richie!" and made him glad he wasn't close to the bed. Stacy looked like she wanted to hit him! "C'mon, Tessa, get down," he ordered, pointing to the floor. "I guess your spot in my bed has been taken."

The puppy went reluctantly, acting like she was being punished. Richie gave her a quick rub on the head before stripping down to his boxers, and climbing in next to Stacy. He shut off the bedside light, pulled the young woman closer, and started to kiss her. She responded passionately for a few moments until he moved from her lips down to her neck.

"Richie! Richie stop!" Stacy insisted suddenly, trying to push him away.

The young Immortal pulled back and looked down at her face. He could see it clearly even in the dark because the room was lit by an outside street lamp. "What's wrong, Stacy? I thought you wanted to do this."

"I do," she replied, "but not with her watching!" Stacy pointed over Richie's shoulder.

The Immortal looked back to see what the problem was. Tessa had her paws up on the bed and truly appeared to be watching their antics. Richie groaned and flopped back down on his side. "I don't believe this!"

"I'm sorry, Richie," Stacy apologized. "It's just a little unnerving."

"I don't blame you. It bothers me a little, too. Do you have any suggestions on how to divert her attention? I suppose I could shut her up in the bathroom, but she'd probably start howling and I don't think that would set the proper mood either."

"Do you have a bone or something she could chew on? Maybe that would divert her."

"Yeah, I bought her a chewy bone for Christmas. Just a sec." Richie hopped out of bed and retrieved the treat from one of the kitchen cupboards. "Here, Tessa," he said, enticing the puppy over by the sink.

Recognizing her favorite treat, the puppy bounded across the room. Soon, she was busy gnawing away. Richie knew it would keep her busy for hours and headed back to bed.

This time there weren't any interruptions.

* HL * HL

Richie bounded up the stairs to the dojo, whistling as he went, Tessa at his side. He burst through the door, feeling the touch of an Immortal as he did. Duncan was in the office, on the phone, and waved when he saw the young Immortal. A moment later, he hung up and came out to join Richie. Tessa greeted the Scot before going over to the side of the dojo and laying down on a mat there. She was used to these sessions now.

"Well, it looks like you're in a good mood," Duncan commented.

Richie couldn't stop smiling. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"In that case, maybe you want to do a little swordwork?"

"Sure, Mac, whatever you want." Today, Richie had no doubts. He wouldn't try for the Highlander's head - he was in too good a mood. His smile widened as a look of relief crossed Duncan's face.

Richie couldn't remember the last time they had sparred like this. Both combatants wore big grins as they exchanged blows. It wasn't a training session where his teacher was trying to pound something into his struggling student. It was light-hearted and it was fun. It reminded the young Immortal of the first time he'd seen two Immortals dueling - Duncan and Connor had never known he was there.

Finally, Duncan called it quits, walking over to a bench and picking up a towel. He tossed it to Richie and grabbed the other one for himself. "So, Richie, what put you in such a good mood? Or do I have to ask?"

The young Immortal grinned even broader. "You don't have to ask."

"Have you told her?"

The smile faded away. "Don't start on me, Mac. No, I haven't told her. We're not that far along yet. It's not like I've asked her to move in with me. You can't tell me that you haven't slept with women without them knowing you're Immortal."

"No, I can't tell you that," Duncan agreed. "It's just that you haven't known her that long."

"How long did you know Anne before you climbed in bed with her? Or for that matter, Tessa? I know you didn't tell Tessa what you were until you'd known her for three years. We talked about it once. And don't give me the 'I'm older and wiser' routine. I'm thirty now, Mac. I know that doesn't seem very old to you, but it is to me. I've made mistakes. I'm trying *not* to make one here."

"You're right, Richie. I keep forgetting you've grown up. Maybe it's the fact that you still look so young. Or maybe it's the missing seven years. I have no business butting into your love life."

"No, you don't. At least not the same old tune. I've had this lecture already. Now, if Stacy would try to seduce you like Elsie did..." Richie hadn't been positive before, but the guilty look that crossed the other Immortal's face, made him certain now. "Well, that kind of thing I need to know. I'm not sure I would have believed you back then, but don't try to keep those kinds of things from me."

"I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't think it would go any further. I made my feelings quite plain."

Richie sighed. "Boy, did I really screw up there."

"Stacy's not like Elspeth. I really like her."

"So do I, Mac." Richie grinned. "But I'm taking it slow. Trust me."

"I do." Duncan rested one hand on the young man's shoulder. "If you ever need to talk about it, just let me know."

"Thanks, Mac."

* HL * HL

Time seemed to speed by for Richie. He and Stacy attended Duncan's birthday party together, but they spent Christmas apart. Stacy had wanted him to come meet her family, but he had already promised Duncan that he would spend the holiday with him. Richie spent most of the day thinking about Stacy.

Business had been brisk before the holidays, but it died down afterwards. Several times, Richie left the shop in Mrs. Garrett's capable hands while he visited businesses that sold baseball cards or comics. Several dealers bought some of the cards - from the lower end of the price range. Most dealers couldn't afford to buy the expensive ones outright. Finally, the young Immortal picked one of the shops and made a deal with the owner. For a small commission, the dealer would try to sell the expensive cards. He did the same with the comics.

By the end of March, most of the cards and comics had sold. Things were looking very rosy for the young Immortal. He paid off the mortgage and had set aside a small nest egg with his half of the proceeds.

Richie and Stacy were seeing each other as often as they could. The young man had finally consented to meet her relatives. It was an ordeal that changed his mind about the joy of having a large family. They spent at least one night a week at Joe's. Duncan and Methos joined them sometimes. Amanda had flitted off to someplace in Europe.

After much discussion with Stacy, he decided to move the bedroom to the second floor. They visited used furniture stores and yard sales until he found a dresser for the bedroom, and more living room furniture. Duncan helped him partition off space for a walk-in closet. Since the repair side of the shop had never really done much, he divided the garage up to give him a workout area there.

Richie knew he had to make a decision soon. Stacy was getting impatient about moving in since she practically lived there now. Still, he held back, not wanting to tell her the whole truth. It was the one thing he hadn't done yet - tell a woman about his Immortality - and he wasn't in a great hurry to do so.

The decision was taken out of his hands.

One April afternoon, just before closing, he felt the touch of another Immortal. When none of his friends came through the door, he retrieved his sword. Stacy had shown up a few minutes ago and was upstairs changing clothes. Telling Tessa to stay, he cautiously opened the door and went outside.

A tall, husky man, dressed in black leather, leaned up against a vintage Harley. He straightened as Richie approached, and pulled out his sword.

"Cal Watkins," he announced, in a deep voice.

"Richie Ryan. You want something?"

"Well, I'm new in town and someone told me this was the best place to find parts for older bikes. I didn't expect to run into one of us here."

Richie shrugged. "It's my home. You got a problem with that? I'm willing to share the town."

"Sorry, no can do. This is my town, now. I don't like being crowded."

Richie almost laughed. "No offense, but I think you're in the wrong town then. I know of at least three other Immortals who hang around here. And they're all better than me, so if you know what's good for you, you'll take off now."

"Yeah, I heard that one of the Highlanders lives here. I've been looking around for him. He won't live long," Watkins bragged.

"Listen, we don't have to fight," Richie almost pleaded with the other Immortal. "I really don't want to do this."

"What's-a-matter? Chicken?" Watkins gloated.

Richie felt anger rise within him, but pushed it back. Anger caused mistakes. Duncan had drilled that into him a long time ago. "We can't fight here - there's an empty warehouse about two miles down the road. Let me get my bike and I'll show you where." A part of him wanted to go back inside and kiss Stacy one more time, but he didn't think Watkins would willingly wait while he did. He also didn't want her to come out and see them standing there, holding swords. So, he went to the garage and wheeled his bike out, climbed on it, and started it up.

As he rode down the road, Richie kept checking his mirrors to make sure Watkins was keeping his distance. When he reached the warehouse, he parked the bike and went inside to wait for his adversary.

As their battle commenced, Richie studied his opponent. Watkins was good, but he was nowhere near as good as the Highlander. Richie knew he had been trained by the best and he'd picked up some maneuvers on his own. Including the one he had used on Duncan that fateful night in the dojo when the young Immortal had almost taken his best friend's head.

Blade struck blade as they struggled for the prize. Neither could get the upper hand, and Richie could feel himself tiring. Watkins didn't look like he'd even worked up a sweat. Knowing he had to finish it soon, the young Immortal dropped his guard long enough to sucker the other Immortal in. Watkins gave a gleeful yell as he darted in to attack. At the last minute, Richie turned, but pain scored along his side as the blade slid along his ribs.

It didn't matter, the fight was over as Richie spun around and chopped off Watkins head. In the sudden silence, he heard a gasp. Turning towards the door, he caught a glimpse of Stacy's shocked face before she turned and started to run away. Richie tried to go after her, but the Quickening struck - leaving him helpless in its grasp. Bolts of electricity ran through his body, causing him to jerk and scream out loud. Visions of Watkins' life pounded their way into his brain. He was a puppet - unable to control movement or thought.

And then it was over, leaving him gasping on the floor.

Despair washed through him as he remembered Stacy's departure. She was probably on her way to the police even now. He quickly hid the body in the back of the warehouse as well as the bike. If the police did search the place, they would find it, but he didn't want to take the time to do anything else.

Now, there was only one thing left to do.

He'd have to disappear again.

With a sigh, Richie headed home to pack.

* HL * HL

Joe and Methos were in the middle of a friendly argument concerning the status of his unpaid bar bill when the phone rang. The Watcher answered it and was surprised to hear the voice of Pat - Richie's Watcher - on the other end. Normally, he just got a monthly update from him.

"What's wrong, Pat?" Joe asked, panic flooding through him.

"We've got a problem here. Ryan got into a battle and his girlfriend saw the whole thing. I followed her to her home. I'm afraid she's going to call the police - what should I do?"

Joe took a deep breath, trying to calm down so he could get the words out. "Richie was in a fight? Who won?" He noticed Methos perked up and started paying attention after his statement.

"Oh, yeah... Sorry, Joe. I should have told you that first. Ryan won."

Joe nodded at Methos, who relaxed again. "Stay with her, Pat, I'll come over and talk to her. Maybe I can convince her to keep quiet. Did she see the Quickening, too?"

"No, I don't think so. She ran away just before it started, although she might have noticed it. For a moment, I thought she was going to go back and see what was happening."

"All right. Keep on eye on her and let me know if she goes anywhere." Joe hung up the phone and immediately dialed Duncan's cell phone. "Duncan, it's Joe," The Watcher started when the phone was answered. "You need to get over to Richie's right away. There's been a battle..."

"Oh, no. Joe..." Duncan interrupted.

"No, Mac, he's fine, but I have a feeling he might disappear. Stacy apparently saw the fight. Don't ask me how. I'm on my way over to talk to her. Try to keep Richie from leaving until we see if it's necessary."

"I'm already on my way," Duncan promised.

Joe hung up the phone and reached for his car keys. "C'mon, Methos, I may need your help."

Joe decided to let Methos drive which allowed him time to decide how to approach Stacy. If any other mortal had witnessed an Immortal battle, they would have tried to recruit them into the Watchers. But Stacy was involved with an Immortal - making her a bad choice for that. Still, they couldn't let her make a report to the police either. And not just because of Richie.

As they pulled up in front of Stacy's house, the young woman came out the front door, hauling a suitcase. When she saw Joe and Methos climb out of their car, a panicked expression crossed her face. She turned and fled back inside, leaving the suitcase behind. The Immortal picked it up and carried it with him as they approached the house.

Joe tapped lightly on the door. "Stacy?" he called out. "We aren't going to hurt you - we just want to talk to you."

"Go away! I won't tell anyone! I promise," Stacy replied. "I'll go away for a while. Honest!"

Joe tried the door, but it was locked. "Please, Stacy, open the door."

Finally, he heard the sound of the latch being turned. A resigned face greeted him. "I guess it's useless to try and run away. Go ahead. Get it over with."

"Stacy, I promise you, we're not here to hurt you. I want to explain what you saw today. It's not as bad as it seems," Joe replied.

Stacy stood back and waved them inside.

* HL * HL

Duncan broke several traffic laws as he sped towards Richie's place. Deep inside, he knew the young Immortal was going to run away again and he didn't want that to happen. He had watched, over the last few months, as Richie turned back into the young man he had first known. More mature now, but he still had the ability to make people laugh.

He just barely made it in time. Richie was backing out of the driveway when Duncan careened to a stop, blocking his path. The young Immortal made no attempt to get out of his truck - he just sat there staring straight ahead as the Scot approached.

"Guess I screwed up again," Richie said bitterly.

"You didn't screw up, Richie," Duncan replied heatedly. "Unless you told Stacy to come watch you fight?"

Richie turned shocked eyes to Duncan. "Of course I didn't! She must have followed me." He turned away again. "Stacy's probably at the police station right now, telling them she saw me murder someone. I have to go, Mac, but I'll keep in touch."

"Don't run away yet, Richie. Joe went to talk to her. At least give him a chance to see what he can accomplish."

"Doesn't matter. Even if he convinced her to not report the fight, she'll still hate me. How can I go on living here? Every time she'd come to see Millie, she would be reminded that I'm still here." He paused for a moment. "And I would be reminded of what I've lost," he added in a lower tone that Duncan had to strain to hear.

"Don't give up on her yet, Richie - not if you love her. She's a strong woman and I think she loves you enough to get over this."

The young Immortal turned to gaze at Duncan, his eyes pleading for the truth. "Do you really think so?"

"Yes, Richie, I do. But on the off chance that I'm wrong, why don't we go to the dojo in case Joe can't stop her from calling the police."

"Okay, Mac," Richie agreed.

* HL * HL

Joe and Methos went inside Stacy's home. She showed them into the living room and they both sat down on the sofa. The Watcher waved to a chair across from them. "Please, Stacy, sit down. I know you think you saw something awful today, but it's not as bad as it seemed."

"Not as bad as it seemed!" Stacy squeaked out. "I saw Richie chop a man's head off with a sword!"

"It was self-defense," Joe insisted. "Richie isn't like you or me. He can't die in the normal manner. He's Immortal." He paused to let that bombshell settle in.

"Immortal? How can he be Immortal? And if it was self-defense, then why were they fighting with swords?"

Joe settled in and began his tale of Immortals and Quickenings. "Do you understand now?" he asked when he was finished.

"I don't know. It sounds pretty far fetched. I mean, really! People living for hundreds or thousands of years and healing instantly. It sounds like something Hollywood would come up with."

Joe chuckled. "I'd have to agree with you. It took me a while to believe it when I was first told. The easiest way to prove some of it would be to do a little demonstration. Adam?" The Watcher looked over at his friend, a pleading look on his face.

"Great, just great. Show and tell time," Methos muttered as he stood up and headed for the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a sharp paring knife and knelt down by Stacy's chair. "Watch carefully, because I only intend to do this once." He quickly slit open his palm, waited a moment while blood welled up, then brushed it away. "See, no wound."

Stacy grabbed his hand and pulled it closer, staring intently down at it. "I don't believe it! You healed."

"Just as Richie does," Methos replied. "We're both Immortal."

Stacy turned questioning eyes to Joe.

"No, I'm mortal, just like you," he assured her.

The young woman turned back to Methos. "How old are you?"

"I'm very old - I was born more than two thousand years ago," Methos replied, hedging his age.

"Oh! And Richie?"

"Richie will be 31 this year," Joe informed her. "He's still a child compared to other Immortals. He died for the first time when he was only 19 - shot by a punk high on drugs."

"Was it the same one who killed Tessa?" Stacy asked.

"Yes, he shot them both. It was a tough time for both MacLeod and Richie. They both loved her very much."

"Is Duncan...Immortal, too?"

Joe and Methos exchanged looks before the Immortal replied. "Yes, he is. So is Amanda. He's over 400 and she's over 1000 years old."

"You know their secret now," Joe continued. "If you go to the police with your tale, they'll have to leave - change identities. Do you want that to happen?"

Stacy shook her head and Joe gave a silent sigh of relief. He had been fairly certain of the outcome. His years of studying people - first as a Watcher and then as a barkeeper - had given him a good instinct for judging people. "What about Richie? Do you want to see him again? I can tell him if you don't want to."

The young woman looked at Joe with confused eyes. "I...I don't know. I need some time to think about this."

"I understand. I'll let Richie know. Thank you for keeping quiet about this. If you ever need to talk about it, you know where to find me."

Stacy nodded distractedly, but didn't say anything else as Joe and Methos headed out of the room.

* HL * HL

Richie paced around the dojo loft, unable to remain still. "What's taking so long?" he asked. "It's been hours!"

Duncan sighed. "It's been less than 45 minutes," he replied. "Joe will call just as soon as he knows something."

"I should have known better," Richie muttered. "Whenever things start looking good - watch out! Something bad always happens. Every time I thought things were going to work out at a foster home, something went wrong and poof - I'm back at the orphanage. I moved in with you and Tessa and started to feel good about my life, then bang! She's dead and I'm immortal. You and I finally got on good terms and along came Mako. I started to make a name for myself on the racetrack and ended up dying in front of thousands of people. I won't even discuss Elsie! Why was I so stupid to believe this could be any different? I'm jinxed!"

Duncan grabbed the young Immortal's arms. "No, you're not jinxed! You've had some bad luck, but that doesn't mean you should give up! You've got to start thinking positively."

Richie pulled away and slumped down on the couch. Tessa jumped up beside him and tried to crawl into his lap - a feat made difficult since she was almost full grown. "Oh, I'm positive, Mac... I'm positive I'm a jinx and a screw-up." Glumly, he petted the dog. "Maybe I should leave Tessa here," he suggested, even though he hated the idea. "If I take her with me, something bad will happen to her, too."

"Richie! Stop that! I'm not going to take Tessa. Leaving her behind is the worst thing you could do to her! Besides, I'm sure you won't have to leave. Stacy loves you."

Richie sighed and pulled Tessa close to him, trying to draw comfort from her. "Then what's taking so long?"

The young Immortal couldn't stop himself from watching the clock. It felt like years before Duncan's phone finally rang. He waited, almost afraid to breathe while the Scot talked to Joe.

"Well?" he asked when Duncan finally hung up.

"She's not going to the police," Duncan replied. "But she wants some time to think about things. Until then, she doesn't want to see you. I'm sorry, Richie. I really thought she would be different."

Richie felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach. At the same time, he felt numb - just like he had for the past seven years. "I guess I can go home now," he mumbled as he stood up. Only it didn't seem like a home anymore. It was just a place to live for a while.

"Richie, maybe you should stay here for a while..."

The young Immortal shook his head. "No, I'll be fine," he insisted as he headed for the elevator. Maybe someday he'd even believe it.

* HL * HL

When he got home, Richie fed Tessa, then climbed the stairs to the second floor. One look at the bed he had shared the night before with Stacy, sent him stumbling back downstairs. He collapsed on the couch and laid there, unable to find the strength to do anything.

Despite the sleepless night, Richie somehow managed to open the store. He didn't really want to, but he was afraid Duncan would show up to check on him. He had to convince the Scot that he was fine. Sure enough, about 10:00, Duncan walked through the door. Richie thought he should have won an award for his acting skills.

Ten minutes after Duncan left, Richie closed up shop. There wasn't any reason to keep up the pretense now. He went back to the couch and spent the rest of the day there. Someone knocked on the door, but he didn't bother getting up to see who it was. The only thing that finally roused him was when Tessa started pushing her food dish around the floor.

With a sigh, Richie got up and fed her. He debated eating something, but nothing sounded appealing. Going out for something seemed like too much effort, so he just headed back to the couch. Tessa came and laid down beside him on the floor, her head resting on his arm in quiet sympathy.

Sometime during the night, he finally fell asleep. The next morning, he managed to open the store again. His first visitor was Mrs. Garrett.

"Richie, are you all right? I saw the store was closed yesterday. I knocked, but there wasn't any answer."

"Sorry, Millie. I wasn't feeling very good," Richie mumbled.

"You do look a bit washed out. Do you want me to run the store today? I don't mind."

"No, thanks. I'm fine. I can handle it."

"All right, but I'm going to fix you some chicken soup for lunch," she said before leaving.

True to her word, she showed up at lunchtime and sat there making sure Richie ate. He didn't want to, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings either. So he forced the soup down. It did seem to help, but he still felt numb.

The next day went about the same. Duncan stopped by just before closing and insisted on taking Richie out to dinner and then to Joe's for a few drinks. The young Immortal tried to fool the Scot into thinking he was fine, but this time he didn't think he succeeded.

"It will get better," Duncan promised. "Someday."

* HL * HL

Wanting to prevent another repeat of the previous night, Richie closed the shop early and headed for his truck with Tessa. He drove around aimlessly, no fixed goal in mind. Suddenly, he realized he had just turned onto Stacy's street and slammed on the brakes, trying to figure out why he had driven there.

With a curse, Richie turned around and headed for Joe's.

* HL * HL

Duncan walked into Joe's later that night. He looked around quickly, spotting the Watcher at the bar and Richie sitting by himself at a table. He went to speak to Joe first.

"Hey, Joe. Thanks for calling," Duncan said. "I'm sorry Richie's causing problems."

"He hasn't caused a problem - he's just been sitting there quietly getting drunk. I just didn't want him to drive home, so I called you."

Duncan sighed. "Maybe I should go talk to Stacy..."

"MacLeod, you want a piece of advice?" Joe started. "Stay out of it unless Richie asks for help," he continued without waiting for an answer. "He has to figure out how to handle these things. Next time you might not be around to help."

"I guess you're right. It's just so hard..."

"Yeah, I know. I wish there was a magic drink I could give him to make it all go away, but there isn't one," Joe replied.

"Well, guess I'd better do something about him. See you later, Joe." Duncan turned and headed for Richie's table.

"You ready to go home now?" Duncan asked the young Immortal. Richie didn't bother to look up. "No. Doan haf a home no more," he mumbled, peering down into his empty glass. "All gone."

Duncan couldn't figure out if he was referring to his home or the contents of the glass.

"C'mon, Richie, you can spend the night with me."

"Tesha, too?" Richie finally looked up.

"Yes, Tessa too. Where is she?"

"Outshide, in my truck."

"Okay. Let's go." Duncan helped Richie to his feet, and guided him across the bar, keeping one arm around his waist for support. A quick stop by Richie's truck to fetch the dog and soon they were on the way back to the dojo.

* HL * HL

When Richie woke the next morning, it took him a few moments to realize he was in the loft over the dojo. His head was pounding so bad, he could hardly see, let alone think. After a while, he finally decided he must be alone, since no Scottish voice sounded out to lecture him.

Finally, he lurched to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom. He emptied his bladder and splashed cold water on his face, before emerging from the room. Still no Duncan.

Richie couldn't remember how he got to the dojo. Had he driven here himself? Gotten a cab? Or had Duncan fetched him from Joe's? A sudden thought struck him that sent him flying down the stairs. He didn't feel another Immortal as he burst through the door and into the dojo, but he still checked the office quickly, as his panic continued to mount.

The young Immortal headed for the outside door, almost at a run. Just before he got there, he felt another Immortal and skidded to a halt. A moment later, Duncan walked through the door, Tessa at his heels.

Richie collapsed to the floor and the dog bounded over to lick his face. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly.

"What's wrong, Richie?" Duncan asked.

The young Immortal looked up into the concerned face of the Highlander. "I couldn't remember how I got here last night. And then I remembered I'd left Tessa in my truck. I was afraid she'd been there all night."

"No, you weren't *that* drunk. It's time for us to talk, Richie."

Richie made a face. "Here comes the lecture... I know, Mac. Moderation in everything - especially liquor."

"That's not what I was going to say," Duncan corrected him. "The way I see it, you've got three choices. One, you keep on like this until someone comes along and takes your head. Two, you forget about Stacy and move on with your life. Or, three, you go talk to her and try to straighten this out."

"She doesn't want to see me anymore," Richie replied, burying his face in Tessa's fur.

"When did you start taking 'no' for an answer?" Duncan asked, an amused look on his face.

Richie looked up, startled for a moment before a smile slowly crossed his face. "You're right. I do have a tendency to do what I'm not supposed to, don't I?"

Duncan laughed. "To put it mildly."

Richie surged to his feet, headache totally forgotten. "Want to take me back to Joe's so I can pick up my truck?"

"Sure, Richie. C'mon."

* HL * HL

Once Richie's mind had been made up, little could swerve his course. He didn't bother to go home and change his clothes - he just headed for Stacy's house. He pounded on her door several times before using a credit card to open it. A quick search of the house made it clear that she wasn't hiding from him - she just wasn't home. With a heavy heart, Richie headed back to his truck.

He debated for several minutes on what to do next. He thought about sitting there and waiting for her to show up, but he decided to go home, clean up, and try back later.

Halfway home, he spotted her car coming from the opposite direction. Richie slammed on his brakes and came to a stop in the middle of a street, waving an arm out the window to flag her down. Stacy stopped opposite him and they both climbed out of their vehicles.

"I'm sorry," they both said in unison. An awkward silence filled the air for a moment. "I've missed you so much," echoed in unison, too. This time an embarrassed laugh came out of both of them. Richie opened his arms and Stacy almost flew into them. He hugged her tightly before he closed his lips over hers and kissed her deeply.

"I'm glad I decided to apologize," Richie said after the kiss ended. "Otherwise, this could have gone on forever!"

"Wait a minute," Stacy protested, pulling away slightly. "*I* was the one who decided to apologize. I knew you would never get around to it!"

"*I'm* not the one who said I didn't want to see you anymore'!" Richie snapped, as he backed off a step.

"You should have known I didn't mean it!" Stacy snarled as she stepped back a step, too.

"Oh, so now it's *my* fault because I can't read your mind?" Richie shook his head. "That's typical female logic for you."

"Hey! What's going on here?" a deep male voice intruded.

Richie looked over his shoulder and saw a cop heading for them. For the first time he realized that his car and Stacy's were blocking the street so no one else could get through. Embarrassment flooded through him as he noticed several people watching them argue.

"It's nothing, officer," Richie started, "just a lover's quarrel."

"Well, take it somewhere else," the officer warned them.

Richie turned back to Stacy. "We have to talk."

"Fine. Let's go to my place," Stacy suggested.

"No, let's go to my place. It's closer," Richie argued.

"No it's not! Let's do it on neutral territory. How about the park?"

"Too public," Richie complained. "Besides, it's starting to rain. How about Joe's bar."

"Listen, you two," the officer interrupted again, "I'm going to give you one more minute to pick a place and, if you don't, you can have this conversation at police headquarters."

"Joe's won't be open," Stacy continued to argue.

Richie sighed in exasperation. "Stacy, we're about to be arrested here. Pick a place!"

"Fine! Let's go to Duncan's."

"Agreed. I'll see you there." Richie stalked over to his truck and got in, slamming the door hard.

* HL * HL

Richie reached the dojo before Stacy since his truck had been going in the right direction. He stomped inside and discovered Methos and Duncan working out.

"What's wrong, Richie?" Duncan asked.

"Women! That's what's wrong. They don't have a brain in their heads!"

"I heard that," Stacy's voice echoed across the room. "I could say the same thing about people who run around with swords!"

Richie spun on his heel and faced Stacy. "You should have stayed out of it! Why did you follow me? Didn't you trust me? Did you think I was going off to meet some other girl?"

"I was worried about you! I about had a heart attack when I looked out the window and saw a guy standing there holding a sword. Next thing I know, you're zipping out of the garage on your bike and he's following you. I decided to follow you in case you were in trouble."

"You're not supposed to do that!" Richie protested. "You would have been better off if you'd stayed out of it."

"Why? Because I'm a woman? Well, let me tell you something! I can do whatever I want without your permission! If you had told me the truth up front, I would have known better, but you had to keep your little secret, didn't you? Can't have people knowing Immortals exist, can you?" Stacy ranted.

* HL * HL

"I'll give you two-to-one odds, she hits him before this is done," Methos said to Duncan.

"No deal," Duncan replied. "Do you think we should remind them they have company?"

"What? And ruin the floor show? Don't be a party pooper, MacLeod."

* HL * HL

"That's the way it is," Richie retorted. "We can't let people know about us. It was for your protection."

"*My* protection?" Stacy screeched. "Why do you think I need to be protected? I'm not some helpless female." "Because you're the woman I love!" Richie snarled before pulling Stacy into a deep embrace. His mouth closed over hers, trapping her retort. She fought him for a moment before returning the kiss, pressing herself up against him even closer.

* HL * HL

"Now, wasn't that romantic," Methos said sarcastically. "Youth!"

"C'mon. Let's leave them alone," Duncan said, grabbing the other Immortal's arm and pulling him towards the elevator.

* HL * HL

Richie finally pulled back, his anger gone, and cupped Stacy's face between his hands. "I'm sorry. I should have told you the truth. It's just been drilled into me for so long to keep it all a secret."

"I understand why you couldn't. It was just such a shock..."

"I was going to tell you. You had to know the truth before we got any deeper involved. It's not easy loving an Immortal. Others will come for me and you'll just have to wait and see if I come back. Or they might take you as a hostage."

"I don't care," Stacy replied. "I could get hit by a car tomorrow. Or get cancer. Life is a risk."

"I can't have kids, and I won't ever look any older than I do now."

"That's a lot harder, Richie," Stacy replied honestly. "Maybe we could consider adoption."

"Maybe. We'd have to give it a lot of thought first. What about the age thing? If we stay together, people will start accusing you of having a boy-toy."

Stacy laughed. "I can handle that. My own personal gigolo."

"A gigolo who would be constantly devoted to you. I love you, Stacy Campbell!" Richie said as his heart nearly burst with his love.

"And I love you, too, Richie Ryan."

Richie went down on one knee in front of her. "Will you marry me?"

Stacy gaped at him for a moment before responding. "Yes, I'll marry you, but we don't have to, you know?"

"I know," Richie replied as he stood back up, "but I want to. I've never felt this way before. The last few days have been sheer hell for me."

Stacy hugged him. "For me, too." She leaned in and kissed him.

When they next came up for air, Richie finally realized where they were. He looked around frantically to see if they still had an audience. Thankfully, the dojo was empty except for the two of them, although the young Immortal wondered how much Duncan and Methos had actually seen. He could already hear the teasing he would have to endure.

"C'mon, Stacy. Let's go tell Mac our news. Then we'll go buy you a ring and talk to your father. Or should we talk to your father first?"

Stacy gave him a quick kiss. "We might as well tell Duncan now. Then we can see my dad. The ring can wait."

Hand in hand, they rode up the elevator. When Richie lifted the gate, he saw Duncan and Methos sitting on the couch. He headed over to stand directly in front of the Scot. "This time I'm going to do it right and ask you myself. Mac, we're going to get married and I'd like you to be my best man."

Duncan stood up and hugged Richie first, then Stacy. "I'd be honored," he replied. "And congratulations."

"What? No 'do you know what you're doing' lectures?" Richie teased.

"No. If they haven't sunk in by now, they probably never will."

Richie laughed. "Probably not. I have been accused of being a trifle hard-headed about learning some things." He ignored the snort that came from Methos and continued, "We're going to go talk to Stacy's father now. See you later."

"Do you want me to tell Joe or do you want to do that yourself?" Duncan asked as he walked with them to the elevator.

"I'd like to tell him myself. Maybe we can stop by there after the bar is open," Richie replied, glancing over at Stacy for confirmation. He smiled as she nodded agreement.

"Sounds good. I'll be there too so we can toast the happy couple," Duncan announced.

"Great, see you there," Richie replied as he closed the elevator gate.

Duncan walked back over to the couch and sat down. "So, what do you think, Methos? Should Immortals get involved with mortals?"

"Absolutely, MacLeod. I would have thought you'd learn that lesson by now," Methos replied.

"Why?" Duncan asked, a confused expression on his face.

"Because the alternative would be unthinkable."

The end.


End file.
